Unknown Memories
by Fission25
Summary: Harry begins his quest to change the future of death and destruction he's foreseen. Not yet realizing what the consequences of his actions will be, he becomes the catalyst for a new revolution. 4th year AU, Harry/Katie Bell
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Harry shivered and groaned in frustration as he looked past another corner. Still, none of the buildings seemed familiar, and his constant headache was doing little to help. His headache… That's what was responsible for all this.

It began the night he saved Sirius. Back then it had been just a slight headache that, at the time, he wrote off, thinking that it was just part of using the time turner, thinking he understood why Hermione was in such a mood during the year. As the days went by, it not only became worse but also started influencing his dreams. Unfortunately, by the time he admitted to himself that it was a problem, he was already at the Dursleys and Hermione was away with her parents on vacation. That was a week ago. Since then, the images became worse. They were more detailed and seemed so real that he could feel them. Unfortunately, these images were not always ones he wanted to feel — or even see at all.

Some nights his dreams would begin somewhat normally: being with his parents, being with his friends, or of playing Quidditch games that never happened. Other nights were different. He'd watch as people were tortured and killed; Sirius, Cedric from Hufflepuff, Dumbledore, Professor Lupin, Ron, Mr. Weasley, and many others he didn't recognize all died.

He tried to stop sleeping in order to prevent the images from attacking his mind, but it didn't help. The memories just started assailing him when he was still awake, even during the day. The Dursleys, who tried to forget the fact that he existed, noticed that something was wrong and locked him in his room, fearing that it was some sort of "freak" illness.

Finally, Harry was so exhausted that he stopped fighting the images and allowed them to just happen. Then he began to understand. They weren't images or dreams. They were memories—his memories—of things that hadn't happened yet. He began to pay attention and try to figure it all out, but he couldn't make much sense of them. There were just too many, and they changed too quickly for him.

He understood enough though. Voldemort wasn't stopped by killing Quirrel and having the stone destroyed or by defeating the Basilisk and demolishing the diary. He came back, and it was Harry's fault and his responsibility to stop him.

Soon after he started accepting the memories, things got better for Harry. He still felt tired and weak, but the headache lessened to a mere annoyance, and he found he could stay awake for most the day. But now that he was physically better, he had another problem: proving to himself that the memories were real and not just his imagination.

The answer came to him later that day when he started feeling weak and had to take a nap. He'd never been to a wizarding hospital, but one of the memories told him there was one in London. If he could find it, he'd prove that the memories were real. It didn't take much to convince his relatives to drop him off in London; all he had to do was threaten to write his godfather if he continued to feel sick.

Unfortunately, there was a problem with his brilliant plan. One of the memories came to him while he was trying to find the hospital. He slipped on the wet pavement and fell, breaking his glasses. Normally this wouldn't be a problem; his glasses broke often enough that he'd become quite proficient at repairing them with magic. This was summer though, and he wasn't allowed to use magic. Minister Fudge had been kind last year when he used accidental magic to blow up his aunt, but Harry didn't want to risk being expelled from Hogwarts just for fixing his glasses.

So there he was, completely soaked and wandering lost on the streets of London. It wasn't like he could just ask for directions to the Leaky Cauldron or St. Mungo's. At that point he didn't even care if he ever found St. Mungo's; he just wanted out of the cold rain. Even the Dursleys would have been better than this.

Chapter 1

Harry gave up trying to find his own way and resigned himself to calling Uncle Vernon for help. He knew his uncle was going to give him a hard time and hold it over him for the rest of the summer, but he really had no other choice. He'd been lost for hours, and the chill of the rain was getting to him. He didn't have any Muggle money to pay for a phone call, and Uncle Vernon wouldn't accept the charge if he called Collect. Thankfully, finding an inn in London wasn't hard, and only a few minutes after his decision, he was waiting in line to talk to a clerk.

He barely paid attention to the argument the clerk was having with a customer about money until a small portion of his brain registered the man was wearing robes … wizarding robes! Harry couldn't help but think himself a fool. Instead of trying to find the Leaky Cauldron or St. Mungo's, he should've been looking for a witch or wizard. He knew there was a large population of them in London, and with their fashion sense, it was generally easy to tell them apart from Muggles— even when they weren't wearing robes.

"I read about Galleons during my school work," Harry said quickly, hoping to intervene before the local Bobbies were called. "It's just a weird foreign currency. I can't remember where from exactly My friend Hermione would know offhand though. All he needs to do is get it exchanged at the nearest bank."

"Come on," he said, as he pulled the bewildered wizard away from the angry clerk, "I'll take you to one."

The wizard, an older man with sallow skin and receding brown hair, introduced himself as Gabric Haudin. He thanked Harry for helping him, admitting that he'd nearly lost his patience with the Muggle.

"I had planned on staying at the Three Broomsticks or The Leaky Cauldron, but they're both full, and the barkeep sent me here. The owner is from a wizarding family, but he's off today, and that little Muggle wouldn't call him!" Gabric said indigently. "Now about exchanging the money, you know a place around here?"

"Gringotts in Diagon Alley."

"Goblins. I hate dealing with Goblins; no matter what you try, they always get the better deal in the end. But, if I must, I must."

Harry almost laughed to himself. He couldn't believe his luck. Not five minutes ago, he'd been willing to admit defeat and call his Uncle Vernon and beg to be picked up. Now he was on his way to the Leaky Cauldron. Gabric didn't know where St. Mungo's was, but at least he knew where The Leaky Cauldron was, since he'd just come that way a few minutes before.

Harry couldn't believe how busy the Leaky Cauldron was once they arrived. When he had stayed there last year, there were barely a dozen people in the bar at any one time. Today though, nearly all the tables were full, and even the stools at the counter were filling up. Taking another glance around the room, he was pretty sure Tom had added more chairs and tables since his stay last summer.

Harry was waiting near the back of the bar for Tom to finish helping the current customers when his teeth began to chatter. Now that the urgency was over, he was really starting to feel the effects of spending most the day wandering around London lost in the cold rain.

"Mercy, boy, come on back, and we'll get you dry! What have you been doing with yourself?"

Even after he heard someone speak, it took a moment to notice that Tom had been talking to him and was now leading him past the kitchen and into a small room with a fire burning. Tom moved a chair close to the fire and Harry sat down, his teeth still chattering.

"How did you get so wet, Mr. Potter? Soaked all the way to your bones you are."

Tom didn't wait for an answer, and Harry soon found himself wrapped in a warm blanket.

"Now you stay here and warm up. I'll be back in a minute."

He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the fire soaking his body. He didn't think there had been another time in his life where he appreciated the warmth of a fire so much.

"Come now, Mr. Potter," Tom said, walking back into the room. "You can rest soon enough, but we need to get you out of those wet clothes first."

"But I don't have anything else to wear," said Harry, speaking for the first time since he arrived at the Leaky Cauldron.

"Don't you worry about that. Madam Malkin is on her way with a robe for you, and a Healer will be here soon. From the looks of things, you got yourself a fever at the least."

A moment later, Madam Malkin walked in and was instantly next to Harry trying to pull off his shirt. "You still haven't gotten him out those clothes! Come now, off with those, and we'll get you into a nice warm robe." Harry put his arms down, trying to stop her.

"Now's not the time for modesty, Mr. Potter! You should have considered that before you got yourself all wet and sick."

Harry felt his arms being pulled up, and soon his shirt was peeled off.

"Dear Merlin, child, what rags are you wearing?"

Looking down, he saw his cousin's mammoth pants being held up by an equally large belt. Normally he never cared about what he wore; Dudley's old hand-me-downs and his school robes were really the only clothes he had. But this time her question, and being exposed like that, left him feeling self-conscious and ashamed in a way he hadn't felt since before he went to Hogwarts.

"Not to worry, dear, I'll take care of those later. For now, let's get you out of these drenched things and into a nice, warm robe."

After Madam Malkin made a few quick magical adjustments to the robe Tom brought back another person, whom Harry guessed was the Healer Tom mentioned.

"Mr. Potter, glad to be able to meet you! I can say it's an honor to help you. Healer Pomfrey speaks quite highly of you and the amount of trouble you seem to find yourself in." A grin lit up the man's face as he added, "Anyone who can manage to keep that woman on her toes is a friend of mine. But where are my manners. I haven't even introduced myself yet. I'm Yersinis Pestia, Mediwizard extraordinaire from the greatest Healing family in all of Europe. More than twenty generations of Healers have come from my family, each and every one among the best of their time. Enough of such chit-chat, let's find out what's wrong with you."

Harry smiled at the Healer and decided he liked him. He didn't seem to be in awe of meeting the Boy-Who-Lived; not once had the man flicked his eyes towards Harry's scar. After only a short examination, Yersinis gave Harry a couple potions and told him to sit by the fire.

"Well, Mr. Potter, you are suffering from dehydration and a mild fever, nothing a few good meals and some rest can't fix. The potions I gave you will help reduce your fever and help you get a good night's rest. I'll leave another potion to reduce your fever with Tom here just in case you need it tomorrow."

The three adults watched Harry for a minute. Now that he was dry and safe, the adults seemed to want an explanation as to how he ended up like this. He was embarrassed by their worry, but he didn't have the energy to try and put up a fight. He began to feel a familiar calm settle in his body as the Calming Drought took effect.

Harry was thankful that he had taken the potion several times before and could at least keep some of his wits about him. He knew he couldn't tell them the truth about how he suspected the Time Turner was responsible for his new memories; that would only get him and his friends in trouble for helping Sirius escape and altering time.

Thankfully, the little fibs Harry often told his relatives and professors had given him enough practice that he was able to come up with a decent story. He spent the next twenty minutes telling the adults about his headaches and flashes, lightheadedness, how he passed out a few times, and even his meeting with Gabric at the inn. Harry left out the most important parts though: the Time Turner and his new memories.

The adults all seemed to accept the story after Tom said he sent Gabric to the inn but hadn't realized that the owner only worked during weekdays.

Harry could see the pity in their eyes. Oh, how he hated pity!

To his surprise though, the Healer didn't show any pity at all. Instead he looked, if anything, disappointed.

"I did not detect anything that would cause such symptoms," Healer Pestia said. "However, it would still be best if you were to stay at St. Mungo's overnight for observation. I will also examine your eyes tomorrow, since they were the cause of your situation this day. It should not be too difficult to repair them."

Harry was so thrilled to find out that he'd wouldn't need his glasses anymore that he didn't even notice the name of the hospital. It wasn't until later, when he was laying in bed waiting for another Healer to take a look at him that realization hit. He was _in_ St. Mungo's, which meant the memories were real!


	2. Chapter 2

Unknown Memories

Chapter 2

Having barely eaten since he left Hogwarts over a week ago, he knew he was hungry but couldn't eat more than a few bites before losing his appetite. The nurse didn't seem to care though, and she made it quite clear that he had to eat the entire plate. After a good bit of arguing, Harry finally thought he won when she left the room with the food. Unfortunately, he learned better a minute later when she came back with a large bubbling green potion and a stern look on her face.

Harry felt the glass being placed on his lips and mentally winced as the taste burned in his mouth. He gulped it as quickly as he could, trying to force the lumpy liquid down his throat. Foul. That was the only word he could think of to describe the potion. _With all the power of magic, why couldn't they make a single potion that didn't make you want to vomit?_

The nurse took the vial away and released the spell that held his head in place, offering Harry a mug of water. He scowled at the nurse for a moment but accepted the mug and quickly downed the water, hoping to get rid of the aftertaste.

"I've raised two children, and I've been a nurse for nearly thirty years Mr. Potter," she said, offering him a smile. "While I understand and empathize with being cranky when you feel sick, I will not allow it to interfere with your healing. Your body needs food to get better. If you won't eat from the plate, I'll be forced to feed you with potions."

Harry nodded grudgingly to the nurse. Part of him felt guilty for being so rude to someone who was just trying to help. Another part was impressed that she actually bound him just to make him drink the potion.

"Good, now try and get some rest. The healers will be in to see you in the morning."

Harry woke the next morning to two voices talking. One he thought might be the Healer he met last night, but he recognized the other voice immediately.

"Madam Pomfrey! Err, what are you doing here?"

"Years of your reckless behavior has led you to quite a few stays under my care, Mr. Potter. I was asked here by Healer Pestia as a consultant."

"While you slept last night, we conducted a more thorough magical examination, and we were concerned with a few of the results," Healer Pestia said, gesturing to an open folder in his hand. "Because Poppy has treated you several times in the past, I asked for her opinion. She's assured us that the results were completely normal for you and saw no reason for complications in repairing your eyesight."

"We were just discussing if it would be more beneficial to wait a few days for you to become healthier before repairing your sight, when you woke."

"Oh," Harry said quietly. While strict, the woman always took great care while patching him up at school, and he was quite glad that she was here. "Well, would it be better?" he asked after a moment.

"After reviewing the results of my colleague's examinations, I do not believe it would affect the procedure either way, Madam Pomfrey answered. However, knowing your impatience as I do, I recommended they make arrangements for the procedure today."

Harry smiled sheepishly at her as she and Healer Pestia began speaking with each other again. He looked around the room and found that Hedwig had somehow known he was in London and had arrived during the night. Motioning for her to come over, he started petting her softly, enjoying the company of his friend and companion.

A hand touching his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts. Harry looked up to see that Madam Pomfrey had left, and Healer Pestia was next to the bed.

"I did not mean to startle you, Mr. Potter, but I need to speak to you for a few minutes."

"I have made the arrangements for the operation to occur this evening. We do, however, require your guardian's permission before the operation can occur. I am most distressed to mention this, but we must also discuss payment for our services. I have spoken to my superiors, and they agreed to offer you a considerable discount. However, the procedure to repair your vision will not be cheap even with such a discount."

Harry hadn't even considered the cost! The happiness that he'd had since finding out that he could get rid of his glasses and that his future memories were real evaporated. He knew the Dursleys would rather see him die than pay for his eyes to be fixed. If it wasn't for the nurse at his primary school asking questions about his care, he knew they'd never have taken him to get glasses.

Sighing to himself, Harry was just about to thank the Healer for his help and tell him not to bother when he remembered his vault. "I have a key!" Harry blurted out.

At the Healer's questioning look, Harry continued, "The Dursleys won't pay for anything like this for me, especially not if it's expensive. And they'd never go some place magical to help me, even if it was free. My parents left me a vault in Gringotts though. I've never used it for anything but my school supplies — well, and some candy on the Hogwarts Express, but never anything else. I'm not sure exactly how much I have, but I'm pretty sure it should be enough."

The Healer's frown deepened as Harry continued talking, not liking where his thoughts were leading about Mr. Potter's relatives. "I will have our staff check with Gringotts about your account. Unfortunately, we will still require your legal guardian's permission before we can perform the operation."

Harry thought for a minute and then grinned as he looked at his owl. "Could Hedwig deliver the paper work to them? That way, they wouldn't have to come here."

"It is not normally done in such a way. However, I believe an exception can be made in this case. It will require the director's approval though."

Less than an hour later, a nurse came by with a couple pieces of parchment for Hedwig to deliver to his relatives. Since Harry couldn't read without his glasses, he asked if the nurse could mark where the Dursleys should sign, since they were Muggles and wouldn't understand about magic. The nurse was much younger than the one he had last night and spent a moment staring at his scar before, thankfully, agreeing and marking where they'd need to sign.

He had no intention of actually having Hedwig deliver them and asked for a quill, ink, and parchment. It took a good bit of discipline not to roll his eyes as he explained that he needed to write his relatives a note letting them know he was all right and what was happening here. The nurse was more than happy to help 'The Harry Potter' and was back within moments with them. The moment the nurse left again he began forging his uncle's signature, making a mental reminder to thank Dean for thinking of forging his signature last year when he didn't sign his Hogsmeade forms.

Harry completed signing the documents and gave them to Hedwig with instructions to fly around for a few hours before returning. He knew the signature would never pass for Uncle Vernon's, but he doubted anyone at St. Mungo's would know. Even if someone did eventually check, it'd be too late. The operation was scheduled for later today, and after that it wouldn't matter.  
--

Harry felt sore, tired, and disoriented as he woke up the next morning. Looking around he sighed, white. Always white. _Why did hospitals have to be so white?_

It was a moment later when he reached over towards the end table for his glasses that the realization hit him. He could see everything perfectly clearly, and he didn't have his glasses on!

He was forced to stay in bed while the healers tested his eyes several times. Once they finished, he ate a late breakfast, and they let him go. He flooed to Diagon Alley and went to Gringotts in order to transfer the 300 galleons (2,200, £1,500) to St. Mungo's. Afterwards, Harry went down to his vault and was surprised to see that he still had a good amount of money left.

While the 300 Galleons took a large chunk out, Harry figured he still had a little less than three quarters of what he started with. As long as he didn't spend that much at one time, he'd be fine until he graduated. Now that he knew the memories were real, he'd have to become a lot better wizard than he currently was. He decided to take some money out to shop in Diagon Alley.

The first place Harry needed to go was Ollivander's. The old man was strange, there was little doubt about that, but he had hinted that Harry would be great one day. _Could Ollivander somehow see the future?_

Harry didn't know, but the man seemed fixated on greatness when Harry talked with him years ago, and he had even pointed out how Voldemort did great things. Yes, maybe Ollivander could help him become a great wizard.

Harry suppressed a shudder as he thought of the Sorting Hat's words. It, too, predicted that he could be great. _Should Harry have let the hat put him in Slytherin?_

No! There was no way Harry could accept that being in Slytherin and being buddies with Malfoy could ever be a good thing. He didn't want to be great. The hat had tried to tempt him, but Harry hadn't wanted it then, and he still didn't now. He _needed _to become great to save his friends—the friends he made because he was in Gryffindor.

Harry was so engrossed in his internal debate he hadn't even noticed that he had already arrived at Ollivander's. When he finally did notice his surroundings, Ollivander was standing less than a foot away, gazing at him.

"Harry Potter."

The way Ollivander said his named gave Harry a chill. It was not a simple question or a statement. By speaking just his name, Ollivander seemed to put dozens of meanings into the words.

"Your wand is fine, is it not?"

"Err. Yes, my wand is quite fine," Harry answered nervously.

"A powerful wand, yes. You do not have it with you. No, no, that is not wise. Always carry your wand. It chose you for a reason, Mr. Potter. Respect that, and it will not fail you," Ollivander said, still staring right at him.

Harry wasn't sure how Mr. Ollivander knew he didn't have his wand. He hadn't even realized that he'd left it in his school trunk until just now.

"It's sort of why I'm here. My wand. Well, why my wand selected me." Harry stopped a moment to get himself under control and tried again. "When I was first here, you said I'd be great. The sorting hat tried to tempt me with greatness, and I chose against it. But now I need to become a great wizard."

"Greatness is meant for you, Mr. Potter. It will find you no matter what choices you make. You have changed since I saw you last. That was to be expected, a little early perhaps, but expected, yes. Much you still have left to change, though. What is it you want of me?"

Harry wasn't sure. He really didn't have a plan and hadn't thought things would go like this; offhand there was only one thing he could think of. "Is there a way I can use my wand without getting in trouble?"

"Yes, but no. No, I will not do this for you. It would permanently hurt your wand, and I will not take part in such a thing."

Harry wasn't sure what exactly happened but Ollivander's stare seemed to change somehow, as if he was staring right through Harry and into his very soul. "What is it you want Mr. Potter?"

"Memories." It was out of Harry's mouth before he could stop himself.

Apparently this answer startled Mr. Ollivander because his stare faltered.

"Memories of my classes," Harry said quickly as he tried to correct his mistake. "Is there a way I can relive all my classes so I can learn more? I didn't try very hard before, but this year I learned the Patrons Charm from Professor Lupin, and I managed it. I know I can do better in all my other classes if I try."

"Lupin, you say. Remus Lupin. Yes, I remember him well. Ten inches exact. Willow and Dragon's Heartstring—quite pliable. An unusual combination, but it makes for a good all around wand. Few strengths, but no weaknesses," Ollivander said, fixing Harry with his stare again. "He taught you the Patronus Charm, you say?"

"Err, yes. They came onto the field during Quidditch, and I… I'm affected by them and fell. Professor Dumbledore barely managed to stop me in time. I needed to make sure it wouldn't happen again, and Professor Lupin agreed to teach me."

"Interesting, very interesting. You succeeded?"

"Yes, it's a stag."

Ollivander's eyes widened. "You formed a corporeal Patronus, Mr. Potter?"

"Corporeal?"

"Your Patronus has a distinctive shape and remains in that shape the whole time?"

"Yes sir."

"Most impressive, Mr. Potter. Things are happening while you are young, too young. But perhaps..." Ollivander's smile turned into a grin, "Yes, perhaps."

"Perhaps what?"

Ollivander's stare returned, and if anything Harry felt it was even more powerful than before. He felt as if the stare was holding him in place, like he couldn't move even if he tried. "You will be great, Mr. Potter. It is sooner than was meant, but yes, I will assist you."

"There are many ways to assist you with your memories. For you, I would suggest a Pensieve. It is a runic tool that allows you to watch memories, but this is not the reason I suggest the Pensieve. In a Pensieve, it is possible to enter the memory completely, leaving the physical world behind. Do you see, Mr. Potter?"

Ollivander understood Harry's blank look and continued explaining. "No, I see you do not. That is understandable. When you are inside a memory, you are physically brought into the memory. As such, you are not susceptible to the means in which the Ministry uses to detect magic."

Now Harry understood. Not only could he use this thing to help him watch new memories, but he'd be able to practice magic as well!

"Yes, yes. Now you understand. But for now, you must leave. I do not have a Pensieve here."

"Come back early this evening at five. Yes, five would be perfect. I must close. I now have much to do! Much to do indeed!"

The old man seemed to come to life as he was talking. His eyes lit up, his face split into a smile, and his movements became more active. It almost seemed like the old man became a child before his very eyes.

Harry left the dusty shop smiling. He'd found something that would let him watch his memories, hopefully helping him figure out what they mean and a way to use magic as well!

The next stop for Harry was Flourish and Blotts. If there was any student in Hogwarts he was actually scared of, he knew who it would be. Hermione. Even now, after finishing his third year, he doubted he knew as many spells as she did at the end of her first. He knew he'd never become like her. She loved to read books in the same way he loved to fly. It was their passion.

But Harry also knew he could do better if he wanted to. Perhaps it was because he never had friends before, but having fun with Ron always seemed more important than grades.

'_But it's not about grades anymore,'_ he thought to himself. _'It's about Ron and Hermione. About Sirius, Professor Lupin, and Professor Dumbledore, and all the others he saw die in his memories. Even more than that, it's about Voldemort and about me.'_

Once in Flourish and Blotts, Harry didn't know which books he should buy. He found some interesting spells as he skimmed through a few of the books, but he didn't have any real idea if they would be helpful or not. He'd have to ask Ollivander about them later. For now ,he just walked around the store and picked out a few books that caught his interest. All the salespeople were quite busy, and it took him nearly thirty minutes to pay for his sales. Harry still didn't understand why so many foreigners were in Diagon Alley, or why The Leaky Cauldron and The Three Broomsticks were both full.

He went to Quality Quidditch Supplies next, needing to waste time until he was supposed to meet Mr. Ollivander, and ran into Angelina Johnson and Lee Jordan. Surprisingly, Lee noticed nearly immediately that he wasn't wearing glasses anymore, and Harry gave them a short version of how it happened while they browsed through the store. During their chat, Harry found out why so many visitors at Diagon Alley: The Quidditch World Cup. The World Cup was so popular that some people were arriving two months early and making a full vacation of the event.

After saying goodbye to Angelina and Lee, Harry walked around Diagon Alley for a while, making sure to thank Madam Malkin and Tom for their help. By that time, he was starting to feel tired again, and Tom let him use the back room to rest. When he woke up again he realized it was already six. He had missed his appointment with Mr. Ollivander!

Harry got up quickly to head the wand maker's shop, but Tom stopped him on his way out. Ollivander had come by while he was sleeping and left a box for him.

He didn't want to return to the Dursleys, but he knew he had to. The Leaky Cauldron didn't have any open rooms, and Harry felt bad for the inconvenience he already caused Tom.


	3. Chapter 3

Unknown Memories

Chapter 3

Saying that the Dursleys weren't happy when Harry arrived back home in a wizarding robe, looking healthy and not wearing glasses, would be the understatement of the year. Once again, Uncle Vernon amazed Harry with the broad spectrum of colors his face could turn. Finally after nearly an hour of yelling, Harry was forced mention Sirius in order to shut his uncle up.

During the next few days none of the Dursleys would talk to him or even acknowledge his existence. While Harry preferred not dealing with the Dursleys, his non-existence did not count when it came to chores. Early every morning, he'd be woken up to make breakfast for his relatives, being allowed to take only a small portion for himself. Then, Aunt Petunia would hand him a full list of chores to do. Every day, he'd work until dinner to finish the chores; but he was never able to finish the full list, which resulted in him being harshly reprimanded.

After his stay at St. Mungo's, he'd been feeling much better, but after three days of working from dawn ''til dusk and getting only a little food and sleep, Harry once again felt sick.

He was weeding Aunt Petunia's garden when he noticed someone approaching the yard. Looking up, Harry saw Mr. Ollivander.

"Gardening, Mr. Potter?" Ollivander said, a slight smile on his face. "I would not think one such as you was interested in such a hobby."

"It's my aunt's garden," Harry told him. "I'm just weeding. It's one of the chores I do for the Dursleys."

Mr. Ollivander looked around the garden a moment and flicked his wand, causing all the weeds in the garden to disappear. "There. Now, your chore is finished. Go change into some proper clothes, and we shall talk."

"Uh..." Harry still had a lot of chores left to do before the Dursleys would let him stop for the night, but he knew that they would freak if they saw an old man in robes standing outside for all their neighbors to see.

Deciding that taking a break from chores was the lesser evil, Harry led him into his room as quickly as possible. He was a little embarrassed when he noticed Ollivander frown as he looked around the room, but thankfully no comments were made.

"You are not looking too well. Sit, sit. We have much to discuss today," Ollivander saidwith concern obvious in his voice.

Harry sat down carefully on the small bed. He was not feeling too well, but he was trying not to show it.

"Well then, first things first. Did the Pensieve meet your expectations to review lessons and practice Magic?"

Now Harry felt guilty: Ollivander had closed his shop to get the Pensieve and then came all the way here to make sure everything worked out, and he hadn't even opened the box yet. With a slight blush, Harry answered him.

"Err … I actually haven't used it yet, sir."

"Really?" Ollivander asked. "After our conversation, I would have thought you'd use it the first chance you could. Were my instructions unclear?"

"Err, no. I mean, I don't know about your instructions. I'm sure they're clear though. I just umm … I haven't had a chance to use it yet, sir," Harry. He was about to say that he was still getting over being sick when he heard his uncle's dreaded bellow.

"BOY, YOU LEFT THE TOOLS IN THE YARD! AND WHY AREN'T YOU DOING ALL YOUR CHORES!"

Harry heard his uncle thundering up the stairs and knew this was not going to be good.

"I'LL TEACH YOU ABOUT SLACKING OFF YOU GOOD-FOR-NOTHING FREAK! HOW DARE YOU…" Uncle Vernon threw the door open and stopped suddenly when he noticed the old wizard with Harry.

"Um… Uncle Vernon, this is Mr. Ollivander," Harry began after a moment of silence, not knowing what else he should do, but he was interrupted by a gasp.

"Uncle!" Ollivander said, disgust present in his voice. "You mean to say that this … man … is your uncle?"

"Yes, I am the freak's uncle and the man of this house! I don't care who you are, but I want you and your freakishness OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

"AND YOU, BOY," his Uncle bellowed, rounding on him. "I don't know what you think you are playing at bringing such…"

Whatever Uncle Vernon was going to say next, Harry would never know. Ollivander moved his hand, his wand appearing instantly, and froze Uncle Vernon mid-rant.

"Mr. Potter, please select one of your robes and wash up. Your uncle and I must have a conversation."

The look of anger etched on Ollivander's face was enough for him. He grabbed a robe out of his school trunk and left the room as quickly as possible.

Normally Harry only spent a few minutes in the shower, having learned early on that the Dursleys wouldn't waste water on the likes him. But today he spent much longer, somewhat fearing what happened between his uncle and Ollivander and worried what the consequences would be after Ollivander left. He doubted that even the threat of writing to Sirius would work this time.

When he finally went back to his room, he was surprised to see that Ollivander was alone and sorting through Harry's books.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. Yes, a robe is much more fitting on you, though you'll need more than just your school robes. I have taken the liberty of destroying those rags your Muggle relatives gave you. A wizard who seeks greatness should not be seen wearing such … clothes."

Harry couldn't believe Ollivander had destroyed all his clothes. There was no way the Dursleys would let him wear his robes with all the Muggles around!

"But …"

"Your uncle would not allow it. Do not worry Mr. Potter. He will not bother you about your robes," Ollivander stated, clearly understanding Harry's reaction.

"What about the Muggles, sir? I can't go outside in robes all the time."

"Ah, yes. Muggles. A simple notice-me-not charm on your robes would suffice, but you cannot use magic yet. I will cast the spell on your robes for you then. The effects will not be permanent, but they will last for some time. I will renew the spell before the effects begin to fade."

"What did you say to my uncle? I didn't think anything would get him to agree with that."

"Yes, he is an unpleasant fellow isn't he?" Ollivander asked rhetorically, "We had our discussion and arrived at an agreement. You will wake early every morning to make breakfast, which includes a full-size meal for yourself so long as you finish before they arrive at the table. After breakfast, you will work hard for two hours doing chores; the rest of the day will be yours to do with as you please."

Harry couldn't believe it; he only needed to do two hours of chores!

"I noticed you bought several books while you were visiting Diagon Alley. I hope you do not mind, but I took the liberty of reviewing your selection."

"Err, yeah. I didn't really know what books were good, so I just bought a few that seemed good."

"It is not the individual books that disturb me, rather your overall selection."

"What about them, sir?" Harry asked, puzzled by Ollivander's reaction to the books. "I tried to select books that would help me learn to fight."

"That, Mr. Potter, is exactly the problem. A great wizard may indeed be a great fighter. However, a great fighter does not make a great wizard," After a moment, Ollivander continued, "Of all the great witches and wizards currently living, none specialize in any sort of fighting, though most are great fighters. Due you understand?"

"Sort of. But, err ... How can you be great at fighting if you don't learn to fight?"

"I did not say you could not learn to fight, merely that there is more to being great than being able to fight. There is also more to fighting than what you would learn in books dealing with defense against the Dark Arts or more offensive magic.

"I, for example, would use my knowledge of magical foci and natural magic to gain advantage while fighting. Another wizard you know of, Albus Dumbledore, is greatly feared by evil. He is not feared for his skills in dueling; rather, he is feared because of his intelligence. This does not mean he cannot duel though, as many have learned the hard way. Do you understand now?"

On one hand, Harry understood the basics of what Ollivander was saying, but on the other hand he didn't really understand why it mattered.

"I guess so. I just don't really see why it matters."

"It matters a great deal, Mr. Potter, but you will learn that with time. For now, can you understand that being great is not the same as being a great fighter?"

At Harry's nod, Ollivander continued. "Good, good. Now tell me about your schooling and what you have learned so far, so I might assist you better."

Ollivander was not pleased to learn that Harry had only taken Divination and mentioned that it might be possible to switch into either Ancient Runes or Arithmancy if he studied during the summer. He also suggested that Harry learn a couple magical languages, as he would have access to certain magic not generally taught in Britain.

At first Harry didn't care for either suggestion. Sure, Divination was a joke, but he had already taken a year of it and enjoyed his time with Ron. But as he thought of Ron, the memory of his dead body came forward, and Harry reminded himself of why he had to do this. He decided right then that he'd take the suggestions.

Ollivander believed that being a wizard was far more than just using magic, and decided he would teach Harry how to become a 'proper wizard,' and not 'a Muggle who can use magic.' During the next hour, the old wand-maker talked about the wizarding world and its customs, something Harry wasn't really interested in, but hedid his best to pay attention. At the end of the 'lesson,' Harry wasn't thrilled to learn that there would be many more such talks on the wizarding world throughout the summer.

Having to do only a couple hours of chores each day and being able to eat three decently sized meals a day made things much better for Harry. By the third day, his health was coming back, and he began to feel like himself again. Unfortunately, a few bad experiences clouded his mind while his body recovered.

The first happened only a few minutes after Ollivander left. Harry put a few of his future memories in the Pensieve hoping to study them, but things didn't go as planned. He went into the Pensieve to watch a future memory of Hermione, Ron, and him, but he ended up watching not only that memory but several others as well.

The second memory was of Hermione getting hit by a curse and falling to the ground, wounded but thankfully still alive. It was the third memory however, that disturbed Harry the most and caused him to flee the Pensieve.

They were fighting in a dreary house he didn't recognize. What he did recognize was Mrs. Weasley's body lying partially visible on the kitchen floor, dead. A large, black man took down two Death Eaters before being killed and falling to the floor nearly on top of Mrs. Weasley's corpse.

His future self was fighting a Death Eater and, from the looks of things, wasn't winning. A Death Eater snuck behind him as he was fighting and cast a spell at the future him. Harry thought he was about to witness his own death when a young woman with purple hair pushed him out of the way. The spell missed them both, but when the Death Eater he'd been fighting sent another curse at them, it hit her. Harry watched in sick fascination as a large section of her chest bloodied; she still fought though, killing the first Death Eater as his future self defended against the second one.

While he'd seen the dead bodies of several people in his memories before, it'd never been like this: so detailed, so real. He fled the Pensieve and ran to the bathroom as quickly as he could. The sounds of vomiting did not stop for some time.

The second bad experience happened two days later. After what happened with the memories, Harry decided to give up trying to understand them and practice a few spells he found in the books he'd bought instead. Even after two full days of practicing the new spells, he hadn't been able to do a single one.

Feeling disheartened because he had failed in so many attempts, he cast the Patronus Charm, hoping the sight of Prongs and the memory of Sirius would help. However, he found his Patronus wouldn't take shape. He cast the spell again, hoping it was just a fluke. But it wasn't, which caused Harry's feelings of self-doubt and hopelessness to grow.

Finally, on the third day of working with his new books, after having taken his anger out on his chores in the Dursleys' yard, things took a turn for the better.

The first spell he succeeded with made an opponent blind for about a few seconds, while the second one caused the target's body to feel completely numb. He didn't think much of that second spell when he first read about it, but after the book explained its use in a duel, he liked it a lot more. Numb opponents could barely walk, the book explained, let alone make complex wand movements and dodge spells.

Happy because of his success with the two spells, Harry felt a little better; but he was still angry with himself for not being able to cast his Patronus and some of the more advanced spells. There were two spells in particular that he really wanted to succeed with. The first spell created a small, translucent shield in front of the target's wand, which would reflect the next spell cast back at them. Having the spell so close to the other person's wand prevented anyone from being able to dodge it and bypassed most warding and shielding spells.

The second spell Harry really wanted to cast was an advanced charm that the book described as a translucent circular shield, which shimmered outward from its center. The shield itself didn't actually block spells; rather it redirected anything that came at him from the side.

He was still attempting that shield when Ollivander arrived later in the evening. He stopped to tell the old wizard his problems with the spells and seek advice. Ollivander had him attempt the spell a few more times, fixing minor mistakes with the wand movement and pronunciation each time, but still nothing happened.

After a few attempts, Ollivander had him stop and try the Patronus Charm. A large amount of silver vapor came out of his wand, but it still didn't have a definite shape. After a few more tries, Ollivander asked what had happened when he first produced the stag.

Part of Harry wanted to tell him about what happened, about the Time Turner and the memories, but it was just too great of a risk. Sirius could be arrested again, and Hermione, Dumbledore, and he would all get in trouble if Ollivander turned them in. He didn't want to lie to Ollivander: not only was the man helping him, but also lying meant he wouldn't figure out what he was doing wrong. Finally he told the wand-maker that he was sorry, but he couldn't tell him what happened because it would get a friend in trouble.

"Did you, perhaps, have powerful emotions leading up to your casting of the spell?" Ollivander asked after a moment, seeming almost happy that Harry wouldn't tell him. "Not normal happiness or sadness, but true, powerful emotions?"

Harry immediately said that he did and explained in a very general way about what he was feeling at the time and how his Patronus didn't just have a shape but chased off a hundred Dementors.

"Yes, yes, that would do it then," Ollivander replied, "A hundred Dementors you say! Absolutely marvelous, Mr. Potter. What a sight you shall be in a few years when you'll be able to channel such power without the help of emotions. Yes, you will indeed be great!"

"A few years?" Harry asked. "And what do you mean without the help of emotions?"

"Ah yes, let me explain. When feeling powerful emotions, you subconsciously channel more magic than normal through your wand. The reason your Patronus was so powerful is because, in your emotional distress, you pushed far more power into the spell than normal."

"Great!" Harry interrupted, smiling at the thought of finally being able to cast the spells he wanted. "Can you teach me how to do that now?"

"No. To do so often would not only exhaust your body but destroy your magic as well. As your body and magic develop, you will safely be able to channel more and more magic at once. While I have no doubt that in a couple years you will be able to safely cast such powerful spells; for now, you will have to lessen your expectations a little. There are still many spells you may learn that do not require such power."

Harry blanched, feeling like the breath was just knocked out of him. _Everything_ counted on him being able to fight and to be able to defend his friends! He knew from the memories that it wouldn't be much longer before people started dying. The Harry in the future memories didn't look too much older than he did now, and the events definitely took place before he became an adult.

"No!" he said, a hint of iron in his voice. "There has to be a way."

"Your body and magic must develop naturally, as must all wizards and witches your age. You may still study the spells. Then in a few years, once you've developed a bit more, you'll be able to cast such spells with little trouble. Have patience, Mr. Potter, you will be a great wizard one day."

"No, you don't understand!" Harry told him as he ran his hand through his hair. "I have to be able to cast the spells. I _need _to be more powerful. It'll be too late if I have years to wait. There must be some other way. There has to be!"

"Yes, there are ways, certain rituals that would increase the amount of magic you are able to channel. But I assure you, Mr. Potter, the price you pay is not worth it. The one who gave you that scar went through similar rituals. He became powerful, yes. But he paid a terrible price for such power."

Harry was shocked to hear that Voldemort went through similar rituals to what Harry was considering. Silently, he debated with himself for a few minutes; he didn't want to turn out like Voldemort … But as he remembered the looks on the faces of the dead, Harry knew he had only one choice.

Looking Ollivander straight in the eye, Harry said, "I'm willing to pay the price. This is not something I want, sir. I don't want to be great. I don't want to have to spend my summer practicing in a Pensieve. I _need_ to be great sir. I _need_ to be powerful. I _need_ to be able to protect them, and I'll _need_ to do it far too soon."

Ollivander continued to stare at him. Harry wanted to look away, but he knew that he couldn't, not this time. It was too important. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity Ollivander broke his stare and grinned. "You are indeed serious! Yes, yes there is, perhaps, a way."

"What do you know of magical foci, Mr. Potter, wands in particular?"

"Err … They're made of wood, a core from a magical creature, and let us focus magic through them?" Harry answered sheepishly.

Ollivander laugh a little at his answer before replying. "You know nothing of them, then. Allow me explain a little."

"A wand is a very powerful and complicated magical focus, and while they may not be alive in the literal sense, they are aware. When a wand chooses you, it is closer to entering a relationship than it is buying a tool. As in all relationships, compatibility is very important. Performing incorrectly is the wand's way of letting you know it is not very compatible and does not want to be your wand. If you try and force the wand repeatedly, it will fight the spells. In some cases, it may even destroy itself, injuring the witch or wizard, rather than continue to be used."

Ollivander paused for a moment before continuing. "Wands, like people, learn from experience. Every change in the wand or wizard can increase, or decrease, the compatibility between the two. Only a focus that matches the witch or wizard can be used correctly. This is why many witches and wizards find that they need a new wand as they age. Students generally check to see if a new wand would be better for them once they graduate from Hogwarts and again every couple of decades.

"After years of use, a bond may form between the wizard and the wand. These bonds allow for more powerful and efficient spells. Though rare, a stronger bond between the wizard and wand can occur several decades after the initial bonding. In these cases, the wand bonds itself so thoroughly that some have claimed it is an extension of their body, seemingly obeying the thoughts of the witch or wizard.

"While forcing the formation of such a bond has only been successful a few times throughout history, I believe there is a way to go a step further and create a true bond between the wizard and wand, a bond that would be equal between both. You would innately influence your wand, and your wand would influence you, allowing for the true potential of a wand to be realized for the first time in history."

Ollivander's voice then changed to an almost wistful tone. "Wizard and wand becoming one, neither subservient nor dominant. Perfection."

Harry knew he didn't grasp the true depth of Ollivander's words, but he was too excited by the thought of having found a way to save his friends.

"Can we do this now?"

"Can we do this now?" Ollivander's expression changed from one of reverence to disbelief and anger in mere seconds. "Do you believe greatness comes so easily? I have told you of a way to become greater than any wizard in history. You could strive for greatness your entire life and never reach near what I am offering, and you ask if we can do this now!

"Are you such a whelp to believe you are worthy of such an honor!? Even with all my help, you must earn the right for this Mr. Potter. It will not be handed to you so completely. Be at my shop tomorrow, and we will begin preparing."

Harry stood staring at the space where Ollivander had been. He had not left the Pensieve before he had disappeared.


	4. Chapter 4

Unknown Memories

Chapter 4

The next morning, Harry woke two hours early to start his chores. He wanted to be finished before breakfast and be at Ollivander's as soon as possible. He made a quick breakfast for the Dursleys, put enough in a bag for him to eat on the train, and took off running to the station, which was about two kilometers away.

Harry arrived at Ollivander's about an hour and a half later only to find it empty. He waited for several minutes, but Ollivander still hadn't shown up. Harry, deciding that it was better to wait than to walk around Diagon Alley and miss the old wand maker, took a seat near the door. Just as he sat down, Ollivander's voice spooked him.

"You arrived earlier than I thought you would. Did you not do your chores?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I did my chores already this morning. I woke up a couple hours early so I could have them all finished by the time the Dursleys came for breakfast. Then I ran to the rail station and was lucky that I hadn't missed the early train."

"Indeed, perhaps there is hope for you yet. A small amount, yes, but hope. With how you wanted everything handed to you last night, I thought perhaps you'd wait for a ride to be given to you."

Only years of dealing with the Dursleys and Snape kept him from snapping back at the old man. Harry kept his anger in check and managed to answer, "I do not have everything handed to me, and I don't want them handed to me. You've seen a little of my life, and you know I work hard."

"Is that so, Mr. Potter? Was it not you who admitted that you had not worked hard on your studies? That you preferred to play childish games with your friends instead?"

Harry wanted to deny it, but he couldn't. Ollivander was right: He hadn't tried. He only really only studied when Hermione badgered him; but he wasn't going to let Ollivander make it seem like he was Malfoy, who got anything he wanted handed to him.

"That's different. I slacked off with Ron, but I still did my homework. And while I'm not the highest in the class, I have good grades. I've also had Quidditch practice at all hours of the day since my first year. I am not used to getting things handed to me. I've worked like a slave most my life and am not some pampered boy!"

Unfortunately, Harry's anger was slowly starting to show as he kept talking, though he managed to keep a lid on most of it. "And I didn't know that I wasn't ready for the bonding because you never mentioned it. Maybe it was stupid of me to think it would be so easy, but how can you insult me just because I asked a question because you hadn't explained something to me?"

Contrary to what Harry expected, Ollivander smiled when Harry finished his small rant. "Yes, yes. Very good. Patience, righteous anger, courage, initiative, discipline, and at least a little self-confidence. You will need them all to succeed, though we must work on your self-confidence more. Yes, overall better than I had expected from you."

It took Harry a moment to get over the change in Ollivander, but then it clicked. "That was a test!"

"A test? No, no test, Mr. Potter — though you will be tested many times. That was merely the power of observation."

"Observation, it seems, is one more skill we must work on. We shall not waste too much on it though, as I have heard of your skills as a Quidditch Seeker. This is very similar; you must merely learn to observe at all times instead of only when playing Quidditch.

"Enough of that for now, though. I have much to do, and you have much to learn. Your first elixir needs nearly an hour more to settle before you may ingest it. In the back, to the left, there is a comfortable chair you may use."

As Harry sat down on the chair, he noticed that a few books were next to it on a small table. Picking them up, he saw that the first one was a slim book called _Ancient Origins_, the second was _Wizarding Customs at a Glance: The Definitive Guide for Muggleborns._ The third book was labeled _Runic Ruins_; and the fourth was simply labeled _Spells._ Harry grabbed the last book and began reading.

Unfortunately, the book turned out to be about using Arithmancy to alter spells. Having listened to Hermione over part of the last year, he knew the general idea of Arithmancy, but this book was far too advanced for him. But since he wasn't really interested in any of the books, and there was nothing else to do in the shop, he kept reading.

After glancing through the book, Harry felt a strange tingle going through his body. Looking up he saw Ollivander standing there, his wand in his hand.

"It was nothing bad, Mr. Potter, just a spell to help begin preparing your body for the bonding is all. It will need to be cast many times throughout the summer. Come. Your elixir is ready."

The old wizard handed him a small, glowing bottle, and Harry gasped when his fingers touched it: It was freezing.

"Be careful with that!"

Harry drank the elixir and was surprised to find it didn't taste awful. It tasted good in fact, nothing like what he'd come to expect from potions. He wasn't sure how to describe it, but it was nothing like he had ever experienced before. His body felt lighter, as if he could jump and start flying. His skin was tingling and had goose bumps everywhere.

"Wha… What did it do?"

"It will help strengthen the magical pathways in your body. You must digest the elixir at close to the same time everyday for the next two weeks. It will not increase the amount of magic you can do, but over the two weeks your pathways will become strong enough to withstand the abrupt changes the bonding will cause.

"While relatively simple to produce by any skilled Alchemist, the elixir requires the use of many magical substances. Most are extremely rare, and a few have even been extinct for quite some time. Luckily, those that are extinct serve as a catalyst and can be used many times before they dissolve completely."

Harry couldn't believe it. Alchemy elixirs alone were extremely rare, but to have extinct ingredients as well… The potion must have been worth a fortune. And Ollivander had just given it to him!

"Why are you doing so much to help me?" he asked. "I mean, um... It's not that I don't appreciate the help but…"

Ollivander didn't seem upset at his outburst. "Yes, I was wondering when you would get to asking that question. Though, it is not an easy question to answer.

"You wish to know why I helped you when you came to my shop a week ago yes? That, I can answer simply. I was bored. To the young, everyday is an adventure, always something new to learn, to explore, to understand. As you age, you will find that life is less and less the adventure it once was and more and more monotonous. When you are as old as I, weeks and months can disappear just as hours and days once did. I agreed to help simply because I hoped it might prove interesting.

"Why did I suggest the bonding between your wand and yourself? Now that is more complicated and in no small part due to vanity.

"For more than two-thousand years, my family has been crafting magical foci. In all that time, never has there been another better than an Ollivander! But I am the last of my line and the last true crafter alive. I am an old man, Mr. Potter, and like all things my days are numbered. Soon my time on this world will come to an end. While a select few of the wand-makers are decent, none are true crafters. Many of these whelps are nothing more than amateurs, merely putting pieces together as if a wand was furniture! The thought of the Ollivander name being associated with those… charlatans is enough to give me nightmares.

"Yet, what can I do? All things are forgotten, and Ollivander's will be no different. But, what if I were to do what no one else has done: bring out the true potential of a wand and help you become not only the greatest Wizard alive, but potentially one of the greatest to have _ever_ lived! Then the memory of my wands would live on with you!"

For the next week and a half Harry's life fell into a somewhat familiar routine. And for the second time, he wanted to thank Oliver Wood for having such early morning Quidditch practices (the first time being after they won the Quidditch cup). He woke every morning before six to do his chores and have breakfast ready for the Dursleys; then he ran to the rail station and headed to Ollivander's.

He'd eat his breakfast on the train and read one of his books. Ollivander had taught him how to cast a notice-me-not charm before he left the first day, and now Harry did it to his books and robes every morning inside the Pensieve. It actually turned out to be quite useful since he didn't have to buy a rail pass, as no one noticed him getting on the train every morning. The added benefit of the charm was that the seat next to him was always empty, leaving him room to relax and read, which was quite nice as well.

Once at the shop, Ollivander would cast a few spells on him, give him the elixir, and then leave him to study in the back. Occasionally, a few customers would be there when he arrived, and he'd wait patiently in the back room for Ollivander to finish.

The books on Ancient Runes and Arithmancy that Ollivander selected the first day were far too advanced for him to understand, but he skimmed through them anyway. Ollivander explained the advanced books were to show not what he'd be learning over the next couple years, but what could be done with the knowledge afterwards. And after skimming through both books, Harry understood Ollivander's reasoning.

Being able to alter spells and create your own spells was really cool. It was Ancient Runes that sparked Harry's interest though. While creating magical runes was an extremely long and complex process, the power and potential it held seemed to make it well worth the effort.

Runes were really just another form of spell creation and casting, but they didn't use your own magic like wands did. Instead they used the natural magic that was everywhere around you. The rune's design, material, sequence, and the creator's intent all determined under what conditions it would activate and what effect the magic had. Runes could be used to create devices like the Pensieve, create wards, power spells for decades, and even cast spells by drawing the runes in mid-air.

Ollivander set up a schedule for Harry the first day. One morning and early afternoon he'd read or listen to Ollivander talk about Wizarding history and culture. The next morning was for defense, charms, and, to his disgust, potions. The third morning was dedicated to transfiguration and Ancient Ruins. Mid-afternoon to early evening was spent mostly on practical lessons in the Pensieve; when he became too tired, he'd listen to Ollivander, if he wasn't busy with customers, or wander around Diagon Alley.

Lunch was an especially good time for Harry: He'd grab a bite from Tom in the Leaky Cauldron and top it off with dessert from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Over the first week, Harry had seen a few people that he knew from Hogwarts, but he hadn't seen any of his friends yet. Thankfully, only once had all the tourists realized that he was 'The Harry Potter.'

It happened the first time he'd gone to Fortescue's. He'd gone to eat ice cream after becoming frustrated with not understanding some of the basic wizarding history Ollivander made him read. When Mr. Fortescue welcomed him as Mr. Potter, a nearby group heard.

It instantly became a nightmare. People were trying to talk to him and shake his hand everywhere he turned, and he was poked and prodded as if he was some sort of creature in a zoo. It took more than ten minutes for Harry to escape and then even longer for order to be restored. After that, Fortescue and Ollivander talked to all the workers in Diagon Alley, making make sure everyone called him Harry from then on, not Mr. Potter.

A little after seven, Harry would leave to go back to the Dursleys, usually grabbing some dinner to go from the Leaky Cauldron on the way. Like in the mornings, the spell on his robes and books made sure he was left alone on the train. He'd eat and read while trying to observe his surroundings like Ollivander suggested.

That night was his first deviation from his schedule, when he entered his room he found Errol sitting near Hedwig's case and Ron's new owl a flying around the room wreaking havoc. Harry quickly tore the letter from the little owl and shoved it out the window. He took the package from Errol and let him rest a bit before sending him off.

Hey mate,

I got a letter from Hermione. Can you believe she already has all her homework done? Mental, I tell you. She sent you a letter, too; it's the other one. Hope the Muggles aren't too bad. My brothers Bill and Charlie are spending the summer here, and it's been great! We played a lot of Quidditch, and you should hear the stories about the dragons and tombs. I can't wait for the World Cup! Cannons nearly won their last game; next year is their year, mate. I know it! Mitch was injured, and they're using their reserve, Terrance. After he got on the field, they improved a ton! They have a real chance this year. I overheard Dad mention something about you coming over before term starts, so we'll play Quidditch then.

Can't wait to see you play against my older brother Charlie. I've been watching him play. and he's good. But with your Firebolt, he doesn't stand a chance!

Ron

Dear Harry,

Have you begun doing your homework? You really should start. I learned so much about the upcoming year by completing the assignments and can't wait for school to start again. Have you heard from him? I don't expect you have; he must be far away by now.

My vacation has been very educational so far. The open market was incredible, only slightly smaller than Diagon Alley, and they sell the most amazing wares. It was incredibly exciting, and I learned so much. The museum and the library are completely different than they are back in London. It really is amazing to see the different views other countries have of the same events.

We're going to Venice next, and I really must pack my things. But I wanted to write you and Ron before we left. We'll be on a ship for two weeks visiting locations throughout the Mediterranean Sea. I don't think I'll be able to find an owl near your birthday, but know that I'll be thinking of you.

Happy Early Birthday!

Hermione

Harry couldn't help but smile as he read the letters; it was nice to have friends for once.

He wrote a reply back to each of them, hoping Hermione would be able to receive messages wherever she was when Hedwig made it to her. He didn't tell them about Ollivander yet or about the dreams. Those, he decided, would be better told in person. He did tell Hermione that while he hadn't started his homework yet, he'd been studying a lot more and actually found himself enjoying some of it.

Ron, he told about all the visitors to Diagon Alley and how most were there for the World Cup. He agreed with Ron that with a new Keeper the Cannons would have a better shot this year. Truthfully, he didn't believe they'd have a comeback anytime soon, but with Ron it was just easier to agree when talking about the Cannons.

The next morning went completely off Harry's routine. He woke up, very late. Aunt Petunia was pounding on his door, yelling at him for not having breakfast ready. By the time he made breakfast, he'd missed the train to London and ended up having to go to a different station to make the next train.

He stopped just inside of Ollivander's to dry himself off, not wanting to get the store dirty. Unfortunately, another person, probably trying to do the same thing, ran in through the door collided with him, and both of them fell to the floor.

"What the..." Harry started to say, but he didn't get to finish as a third person ran in through the door and tripped over the two already on the floor, adding to the pile.

He heard a little girl's voice yell, "Uggh! Get off me!"

Another voiced replied, "It's not my fault, twerp. What were you doing on the floor?"

And then a third voice added, "Enough you two. Stop fighting and get up, now!"

Finally the two girls were off of him, and Harry was able to get up. He saw the two girls in the corner being scolded by their mum. The little girl looked around 11, so Harry figured she was probably here to get her first wand. The second girl, probably an older sister, looked to be a little shorter than himself. Her wet top clung to her body quite nicely, though Ollivander clearing his throat interrupted Harry's chance for a closer look.

Ollivander did not look pleased with Harry. "You are late, and your appearance is atrocious."

"I had to run the last bit in the rain. I got here as quick as I could though. I didn't mess up everything did I? I know you said it had to be taken about the same time."

"Fortunately, you have not, with each dose taken the timing matters less. The elixir is on the table near your chair. Drink it, and clean yourself."

Afterwards he went back out to the main room where there were already several wand cases lying around. It seemed that the little girl was as difficult a client as he had been.

Harry was hoping not to disturb them, but Ollivander, who seemed to have eyes in the back of his head turned and asked what was wrong.

"Nothing, sir. I left my bag by the door is all."

"Harry!"

Turning around, he saw the girl who had landed on him earlier. Only this time, he could see her face.

"Katie, hi."

"Wow, you changed! I mean, you know. You've grown. I didn't even recognize you at first, not 'til you spoke anyways. I thought you were shorter than me. Guess I just didn't notice you grow because I saw you every day."

Harry looked down at himself. He didn't think he'd grown much, but he was pretty sure he'd been shorter than Katie as well. Katie was probably right, he thought, he probably hadn't noticed it because he saw her every day in school.

"Sorry about landing on you earlier," she said as she walked over to him.

"That's okay," he told her. "I shouldn't have stopped inside the door."

"I'm sorry, too." Harry looked towards the voice and saw the little girl walk towards him, her mother following. "I shouldn't have been running."

"There's no problem, really. And I don't know about not running. I'd been running to get out of the rain, too," he sheepishly admitted to the little girl.

Katie then introduced him to her little sister Alexia, and mother, Cephia.

"What are you doing here, Harry? You didn't break your wand did you?"

"No, err..." Harry wasn't sure exactly what to tell her, so he decided on the truth, just not the whole truth. "Mr. Ollivander is helping me some. You know I'm clueless about a lot of the wizarding world, being raised by Muggles and all. So he's teaching me some things during the summer."

"And the Muggles let you do that? I thought they were, like, really horrible to you."

"Well, they were at first, but my uncle made the mistake of saying some things in front of Mr. Ollivander. I'm still not sure what he said because he sent me out of the room, but my relatives completely ignore me now! It's been the best summer so far."

Katie was staring at him, and Harry felt like he was under a microscope. "Your glasses!" she said after a moment. "That's what's so different. You got rid of those awful things."

Harry laughed and told her a short version about how he got rid of his glasses. He was most the way through telling his story when they heard an excited scream and clapping. A wand had finally picked Alexia. Katie hugged her little sister. and Harry congratulated her as well.

He was just saying goodbye when Alexia mentioned getting ice cream as a late birthday present. At the mention of food. Harry's stomached growled quite loudly, and he blushed.

They invited him to come along, and he tried to turn it down, but his stomach growled again. All that running and not having breakfast had made him hungry. Ollivander, chuckling lightly, settled the matter when he commented that growing boys never learn well on an empty stomach.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

As they were walking out of Ollivanders, Katie's mum cast a water repelling charm on them to prevent another mishap, causing Alexia to start complaining. She loved to run around, and the rain gave her a perfect excuse.

The ice cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour was as delicious as ever, although Harry barely noticed as he spent most his time talking with Katie and learning about her family. They'd been really surprised when Alexia received her acceptance letter to Hogwarts, as none of them thought she'd ever done magic. Her father was a Muggle, and while Katie showed signs of magic early on, Alexia hadn't.

"Harry, dear, you're looking much healthier than before. Did you come for more robes?" Madam Malkin asked coming over to him.

Harry started. After finishing their sundaes, Harry and Katie began talking about Oliver Wood's chance of being picked up by a professional Quidditch team and possible replacements for Gryffindor's Keeper. He had been enjoying the conversation and hadn't even realized that they left the ice cream parlor until Madam Malkin began talking to him.

"That school robe does look a bit short on you. I do hope you don't mind but I threw away those wet clothes from before. Even resized, there was just nothing to be done with them."

She raised his arms and turned him around, nodding at what she saw. "Your dress robes will have to be enlarged by a few centimeters and then charmed to keep a perfect fit as you grow. It'll be more expensive, but otherwise the robe won't look perfect when you need it for Hogwarts. Boys your age never seem to stop growing." Noticing the stain on Harry's robe she added, "Or eating for that matter."

Katie laughed at Madam Malkin's comment and told her that they'd just come Fortescue's, where Harry had eaten two sundaes.

"Hey, I was hungry! I didn't have breakfast and ran several kilometers this morning," he claimed, trying to defend himself.

"Of course you did," teased Katie. "And here's your reward for having run so far," she added, offering him a small tart.

Harry, having been in the magical world for three years, was wary of accepting it.

Katie noticed his apprehension. "Go ahead," she said, looking completely innocent. "I haven't visited Gambol and Japes yet. We only just got to Diagon Alley remember?"

Only somewhat reluctantly, Harry accepted the sweet and took a bite. When he saw Katie smile the moment he bit the tart, he mentally groaned. He didn't like the look of her grin.

The feeling was proved correct when his entire body began to feeling tingly and he noticed fuzz growing on his hands and arms. Within a minute, his entire body was covered with in light brown fur about an inch long.

"Well, it looks like we'll need to wait to pick out a dress robe for you dear. I don't think I have any material that would match your fur," Madam Malkin said in a conversational tone, as if discussing the weather.

Katie and her sister both started laughing at her comment, and even Katie's mum had a smile on her face.

"Come along Alexia dear," Mrs. Bell said as she took Cephia by the shoulder, leading her towards the fitting room. "We'll do your robes first."

"Sorry, I couldn't help it! Fred and George made them and owled me a few to test. It's a Wolf-Berry Tart, in honor of Professor Lupin." Katie gave Harry a sympathetic smile and added, "They've gotten me more times than I can count, so you're in good company."

Harry laughed a bit himself. Typical of the twins. Most of Hogwarts knew better than to accept anything from them because of their reputation, so it only made sense that they start using their friends to help.

"Wolf-Berry Tarts, huh? I'll have to talk to them sometime," Harry commented while looking at the fur on his arms. "This might be able to pass for centaur fur, but it's nothing like real werewolf fur."

"You've seen a real werewolf?" gasped Katie. "It was Professor Lupin wasn't it? I heard a rumor that a student was nearly attacked, but I didn't believe it! What happened? And a centaur? Where did you ever meet a centaur? I thought they hated magical folk and stayed away from us. People even say that if it wasn't for Dumbledore, they'd try to attack Hogwarts."

At this he had to say something: A centaur had saved his life, and he wouldn't let anyone talk about them like that. So he told her a short version of his detention in The Forbidden Forest and how Firenze saved his life.

Katie was amazed by the end. Apparently even Fred and George had never gone very far into The Forbidden Forest.

Harry thought this was actually smart of them, and to make sure Katie wouldn't be interested in going in the forest anytime soon, told her about Aragog and the other Acromantula in the forest.

Alexia finished with her robes before Harry could end his story, and then it was their turn to be fitted.

"I wonder what we'll need dress robes for this year?"

Katie's question startled Harry, as he'd been reliving his adventure in the Forest and not particularly paying much attention to anything else.

"Dress robes?"

"Boys!" sighed Katie, rolling her eyes. "Madam Malkin talked about the dress robes you'll need for Hogwarts this year when we came in. We never needed them before though, and Alexia's letter didn't mention any."

Madam Malkin came in as Katie was talking about the possible reasons for the dress robes and told her that Hogwarts would be having a formal ball this year. After that the two of them began talking about the dance, Harry quickly tuned them out.

Ollivander was busy with a customer, a sixth or seventh year boy he remembered seeing around Hogwarts. So he went to the backroom and found that his books were already laid out on the table waiting for him and groaned to himself. He should have known Ollivander wouldn't let him slack on the morning's lesson.  
--

Three days later, he finished taking the Elixir and would not longer need to come into the shop every day. Harry was surprised by just how unwelcome the news was to him. Thankfully, Ollivander said he'd still need to come back to continue his lessons and take a few more potions, just not every day like he had been.

The last two weeks had been extremely busy for him, going to London and back every day, reading and studying in the morning, and then practical lessons in the afternoon. While he sometimes complained to himself about the reading assignments, or about listening to Ollivander talk about the Wizarding World's traditions, he'd not only become used to it, but actually enjoyed it.

Normally, his summers were filled with chores and mind-numbing boredom, but for the last two weeks it'd almost seemed like he was back at his real home, at Hogwarts. The early mornings and running reminded him of Quidditch practice, the reading and practical lessons reminded him of his classes, and occasionally seeing memories of Ron and Hermione in the Pensieve kept him from missing his friends too much.

The most surprising thing was how much Harry had come to enjoy his lessons. Ollivander, while incredibly knowledgeable, was not the best teacher. He was entirely too smart and passed over a lot of the more basic information that Harry didn't know. But in his own way, he was still more effective than any other teacher.

One of the problems Harry had with classes was that he never saw the point in it. What did learning how to transfigure a porcupine into a pincushion, or a lot of other rubbish they assigned in class, have to do with anything? So he only tried hard enough to get by.

Ollivander though, explained that these basic lessons were just one of the many steps that you must take in order to learn true magic. His interest in Transfiguration, for example, peeked to the highest it had been since his first year after Ollivander gave several examples of how the basic magic he already knew tied into the more advanced spells.

It made him want to study harder and learn more for himself, not merely do enough to get by in class. He'd learned a lot in those two weeks for just that reason. While none of it was especially interesting or powerful, he'd made far greater progress in those two weeks than any two weeks in school.

Interestingly enough, some of the most important things Ollivander taught Harry were not spells; rather they were tips on how to use magic efficiently. Eliminating excess movement and saying, rather than shouting, spells were two of the more important lessons.

He'd been amazed to learn that a proper grip and the wand alignment would lessen the amount of magic wasted when casting spells. _Why didn't they teach that in class?_

Ollivander also told him that a well-cared-for wand would channel magic more efficiently. Any cracks or imperfections of the wood grain inside the wand would increase the power required to cast a spell while decreasing the spell's power. Ollivander gave him special oil used for polishing wands that would, over time, seep into the wood and repair minor imperfections, keeping his wand at top performance.

Several times over his three years at Hogwarts, he'd seen students caring for their wands, but he'd never really thought about why. Now that he realized what it was for, he felt stupid. He spent hours at a time keeping his broom in top shape, but he'd never thought to do the same for his wand.

This year, he knew he'd spend a lot more time polishing his wand.  
--

"Katie?" he asked, a bit surprised to see her in Ollivanders again.

"Harry! I was hoping you'd be here. I'm going clothes shopping in London. Interested?"

"I guess," replied Harry, unsure of how to answer. He took time from studying the other day and didn't want Ollivander to be angry with him for leaving all the time. "I could use some Muggle clothes, but I'm supposed to be studying today."

"Considering the despicable clothes you previously wore, you should shop while you have willing help," Ollivander told him from across the room. "This young woman's opinion could be quite invaluable to you, Mr. Potter."

"It won't just be me," Katie added. "Angelina and Alicia will be coming too, as well as my father and Lee."

"Go, Mr. Potter, and do not worry about your studies. I have little doubt that your books will anxiously await your return," Ollivander said, his smile turning in to a full-sized grin.

Harry wasn't sure about spending a whole day shopping, but he had to admit that spending time with friends sounded like fun. "All right. I need to exchange money in Gringotts first though."

"Don't worry about that," Katie said as Harry opened the door for her automatically. "My dad will buy everything, and you can pay him back in Galleons afterwards. It's one of the main reasons why he'll be there today, to avoid the Goblin's fees."

"That was Runes you were studying wasn't it?" she asked as they walked out into Diagon Alley. "I didn't think you took Runes."

"I'm not, well not yet anyway. I took Divination with Ron last year, but you know the story about her predicting my death every class." He stopped talking for a moment to avoid a pushy group of tourists and continued. "Anyways, Ollivander had me read through a book on Runes, and I was a lot more interested in it than I thought I would be. He'll talk to McGonagall about me switching classes if I can learn the basics during the summer."

"Do you want any help? I still have all my notes and homework from last year, and I'm pretty sure I have most of it for my third year too."

"That'd be great actually. I was going to ask Hermione for hers, but she's not back from vacation yet."  
--

The shopping was not working out well for Harry. Going off on his own in the first store seemed like a good idea at the time, the fact that he never shopped before and had no idea what to wear notwithstanding.

After about fifteen minutes of shopping by alone, Katie found him and checked out the few pieces of clothing he managed to pick out. It was rather quickly determined that he would never be allowed off on his own again, and she enlisted the others to help find clothes for him.

He grudgingly admitted their choices were far better than his own, but it did cause one slight annoyance. While the girls were busy trying clothes on, he was forced to wait until one came out to critique what he was wearing. A few stores later however, Harry found there was one surprising benefit to this arrangement.

While proper dress robes were nice, the girls informed him, muggle dresses were far more fashionable these days. And so, Harry was forced to wait a great deal longer than normal as they tried on dress after dress. Waiting for one of the girls to approve his clothing, Harry's mouth dropped open and brain stalled as Katie opened the dressing room door.

This was not because of the outfit Katie was wearing, as Harry barely even noticed her. What did catch his attention was that from this angle he could see Alicia. It was what Alicia was wearing, or more accurately, what she wasn't wearing, that took his breath away. He'd never realized just how large her chest, or how flat and toned her stomach was before. Wizarding robes hid far more than they revealed. His view only lasted for around 10 seconds and by the time Harry came out of his stupor Katie had fallen silent, an odd look on her face. He knew she was going to ask him something he didn't want to answer, so he quickly mumbled an excuse and disappeared.  
--

Katie paused for a moment after he left, feeling a little giddy. She knew she was decent looking, but because of all the time she spent with Alicia and Angelina, who were more than a year older and far more developed, guys tended to look past her to eye them.

Looking down at herself she smiled. It wasn't often that she wore dresses, and this one was a bit short for her tastes, but with Harry's reaction… This was the dress she was going to buy, and maybe a few others like it.

Smiling, she went back into the changing room glad Harry came along today. It was only after she was already at Diagon Alley that she decided be kind and invite him. Coming from a half-Muggle family, she knew how dull it could be to wear bland robes all the time. If she was honest with herself though, she'd been surprised by how much better he looked without the horrible clothes and glasses, and she wanted complete his new look. At the time she thought the girls in his classes could thank her later, but now…

Alicia and Angelina noticed her bright smile and slightly dazed look immediately and quickly surrounded her, wanting to know what happened.  
--

Harry spent the next couple hours trailing behind the rest of the group or talking with Mr. Bell.

Marcus Bell was a kind looking man with sky-blue eyes and a deep voice, which seemed oddly out of place coming from his skinny frame. Harry learned that Mr. Bell had originally been friends with Cephia, his wife, when they were children, but he'd lost touch with her when she went away to school.

Years later, he was helping repair his parents' home and met her again. They became friends and, eventually, married. It wasn't until after they were engaged that she told him about the magical world, though he'd figured something weird was going on with her long before then.

He admitted that it'd been a shock, but they got through it and were married a year later. "The hardest part to get used to," Marcus told him while they were waiting for the girls to finish shopping, "was the Floo. I could handle most of the other things, but it took me years to get used to that. Even now I still prefer using a car or the rail."

As they were shopping, Harry noticed the three girls would often glance at him and start whispering amongst themselves. He blushed with embarrassment each time this happened and was grateful that none of them had taken him to task for peeking at Alicia, hoping they wouldn't mention it at all.

Part of him wanted nothing more than to stop shopping and dream about what he saw for those precious seconds. Another part of him wanted to go back to Ollivanders and try to forget that it ever happened. _Yeah, _he thought to himself, _like that will ever happen._

It wasn't until they returned to the familiar territory of Diagon Alley that he relaxed enough to chat freely with them again. The girls still wanted to do a bit more shopping in the Alley, and Lee was interested in a pair of broomstick handgrips he had seen at Quality Quidditch Supplies. He enjoyed their friendly banter again, but he could sense that the girls, Katie in particular, would give him a thoughtful glance once in a while.

While they were shopping in Gladrag's, he found out the girls were going to help Oliver Wood prepare for his try-outs. Oliver made it past the first two-cuts and would be competing against Puddlemeare United's first string with their Firebolts. It was the mention of the Firebolts that caught his attention. He knew a Seeker wouldn't be as helpful as three Chasers, but he did have his Firebolt, and letting the girls use it against Oliver would help him a lot for his final try-out.

"How is it that everyone knows you and calls you Harry?" Katie asked while they were in Esmeralda's Wicces Boutique. "I've been coming here for years, and she still calls me Little Miss Bell, if she even remembers me at all. I could maybe understand Mr. Fortescue, or Noel from Quality Quidditch Supplies, but Esmeralda… You aren't a regular customer here, are you?"

"No! I've never been in here before today," Harry gasped out, shocked she could even suggest that. Seeing no other way out of it, Harry related how Mr. Fortescue nearly started a riot by calling his last name and how the workers in Diagon Alley would call him by his first name now to prevent it from happening again.

The three girls and Lee, being the kind and considerate friends they were, found this hilarious and laughed their asses off. By the time they finally stopped their laughing, Harry sure his face looked as red as Ron's hair.  
--

After doing his morning chores and cooking breakfast the next morning, Harry had a bit of extra time before meeting Oliver and the girls for Quidditch. Going back to his room, he happily picked through his new clothes for an outfit to wear. Yesterday may have embarrassed him a bit, but the results were worth it. Looking at himself in the mirror, Harry realized that the girls, and surprisingly Mr. Bell, really did have good taste in clothing. He barely recognized himself anymore.

It still felt weird to be wearing such tight-fitting clothes, but Katie assured him that this was how they were suppose to fit, and after he became used to the feeling, he'd never want to go back to his old rubbish again. Harry believed her.

The difference between his old pair of trainers, which were held together by magic and tape, and his new pair of running trainers was like night and day. On his way back from shopping, he couldn't help but test them, so he had sprinted all the way from the rail station to Wisteria Walk, where he nearly tripped over one of Mrs. Figg's cats. His feet weren't even a little bit sore by the end; it'd been like running on air.

Harry arrived at The Three Broomsticks and found Katie and Angelina already there. After a few minutes of talking Alicia arrived and they all Floo'd to the Wizarding Park where Oliver had a pitch reserved.

Looking around, Harry was in awe at what he saw. Everywhere he looked there were sprawling grass fields. Several small children were playing on swings, which seemed to be held up only by magic. In one area, older kids were sliding down huge translucent slides, landing with a splash into the huge lake. The lake seemed to defy logic and gravity. Children swam from the water into the air and then dove, or fell, back into the water again.

The walk to the Quidditch Pitch took about ten or fifteen minutes, and the girls told him about the park on the way. It wasn't normally this large, but the Ministry had magically expanded it over the last two years for the World Cup. The fields where the cheaper ticket holders, like the girls, would camp out were only about a twenty-minute walk from here. Next month, the whole area would be filled with people.

Arriving at the pitch, they found Oliver Wood pacing back and forth talking to himself about Quidditch plays. The four of them only marginally succeeded in stifling their groans. They'd seen Oliver like this many times before, and each knew it was going to be a long day.

While there were a few rough spots, he really enjoyed the full day of practice. The moment his feet left the ground, the feeling of flying returned; this was where he was meant to be, this was where he belonged.

Harry knew he was the best Seeker at Hogwarts, but today he gained a new appreciation for how difficult being a Chaser was, and he learned that the three girls did a lot more than just fly. He'd known from the beginning that they were good and worked perfectly together, but it wasn't until he tried to become a fourth Chaser that he truly appreciated their skill.

Harry could easily keep track of the other Chasers, even in the fastest and most complex of their plays, and he always knew where they were; being a Seeker did have a few advantages. What he hadn't realized was that you needed a lot more than just flying skills to pull the plays off successfully.

Being able to pass the Quaffle exactly to where you needed it while going full speed on a broom was not an easy task. And he'd never even considered that you didn't throw a Quaffle to where a Chaser was, but where she would be. Each of them not only knew where the other girls would be, but were somehow able to let the others know where they'd be needed. It was almost like they could communicate to each other without any visible movements, at least none Harry could pick up on.

Perhaps it was male of him, but he always considered the girls as, well, girls — weaker and more delicate than guys. To learn that all three girls were stronger than him was quite a shock. After several hours of catching and throwing the few-kilogram ball around while flying at high speed on broomsticks, he learned firsthand just how much strength was required to be a Chaser. Normally, Harry doubted he'd have been able to last the whole practice. His only saving grace turned out to be the girls. He didn't want to quit in front of them, to appear weak. So he forced himself to continue even after his muscles burned and his arm grew numb.

At the end of practice the girls, while looking a bit peaked, seemed to be perfectly fine after a shower. Harry, however, wanted to sleep, right there on the ground. Just to lie down and wake up in the morning. He was sure, though, that none of them could tell how worn out he felt. If it was one thing he learned from the Dursleys, it was how to wear a mask.

When they were getting ready to leave, Oliver surprised him by commenting that if he wasn't such a great Seeker he'd make a right good Chaser —with practice of course. This meant a lot to Harry: Oliver Wood was not known to give out praise lightly.  
--

Entering his room at the Dursleys', he was surprised to see a very serious looking Ollivander standing next to the Pensieve. A feeling of dread came over him: He'd forgotten to remove the memory of Sirius from it this morning.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"I can explain, sir," said Harry as he mentally prayed Ollivander could be convinced to listen to reason.

"No, Mr. Potter, there is no need to explain," the old wand maker replied, his voice steady and calm.

Harry blinked. That was about the last thing he expected Ollivander to say, and he was confused that helping a wanted mass-murderer escape wasn't something that needed to be explained.

"There isn't?"

"No, there is not. I am here to continue assisting you with your lessons, not to confront you about the memory you left in the Pensieve," Ollivander told him while gesturing for Harry to sit. "This is your life, Mr. Potter. The decisions you make and the reasons for those decisions are yours and yours alone. If there is anything you wish to tell me, I will listen and offer the best advice I can provide. But you have no need to explain, Mr. Potter. Those loyal to you should require no explanation, and those who do would not believe it anyway."

"From the broomstick you carry, I assume you did not spend the day studying?"

"No, sir," Harry answered, smiling sheepishly as he laid his Firebolt on his bed. He was about to explain why he had been out so long, but Mr. Ollivander spoke before he could.

"Do not worry, Mr. Potter. There is plenty of time left to study. This, however, fits perfectly with another lesson I wished to teach you."

"No one person can do everything, Mr. Potter," explained Ollivander. "Even the most powerful Wizard or Witch needs the help of others, many others. The best are either respected and well liked, or they are hated and feared; but all require help in order to succeed. It would be wise for you to begin gaining friends and loyalty now, if you aspire to greatness so young and to survive long."

Harry wasn't sure exactly what to make of what Ollivander said. He understood he needed his friends. He already relied on Ron and Hermione a lot, but what did he mean by gaining loyalty?

"Not many people your age understand how to inspire such loyalty Mr. Potter. This, of course, makes it even more important that you learn soon. First, you must learn how to communicate well with others. Watch the people you talk to, observe their body language, and listen to the words they use. When you're talking, be certain to look into their eyes. Many times you can learn more by _how_ people talk than by the words they say.

"I would also highly recommend that you to increase the number of people you know. Perhaps you could make it a point to talk to a person you do not know well once every week or two — and not just those your age, adults as well. And continue to speak to everyone you know regularly. If you are walking and see someone you haven't talked to in a while, stop for a moment and talk to them. It does not require a long conversation. Just say hello, see how they are doing, and ask if anything is wrong. Be nice, and make sure you leave them feeling good about having talked with you.

"You will be surprised by how little effort is required to win the friendship of others when you require nothing of them." As an after-thought Ollivander added: "Of course, this will mean you will have a lot more friends and information to remember. At first, it may be difficult for you to keep all the information straight when you do not seem them often. Writing down the names and important facts about each person on some parchment and reviewing it later would be wise."  
--

The dreary weather did nothing to hamper Harry's high spirits as he jogged the last bit to The Leaky Cauldron.

During his practical lesson with Ollivander last night, he explained about Sirius. Ollivander had been shocked to say the least, but not about Sirius being innocent.

His surprise was that Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic would let a third year student, no matter how talented, use a Time-Turner. He couldn't begin to imagine why anyone would approve of such a thing since a time-turner was one of the most dangerous objects in existence, and it had far too many side effects for even a trained adult to safely use.

The side-effects part caught Harry's attention. _Could that have been what was happening to me?_

Ollivander was amazed that Sirius was in such good condition after being around Dementors for so long, but he also said that his mind would require more healing than his body. Without proper treatment, Sirius would focus less and less in the real world and wander deeper in his memories, real or imaginary. Then one day he'd become trapped inside his own mind, never even realizing that it wasn't real until his death.

Harry had been afraid before: when he pushed his uncle too far, at school when he had faced Voldemort, when he learned that Ron's little sister's life was in danger, and again later that same night when he fought the Basilisk to save her. But never before had he been as afraid as he was now. He could lose his godfather, his only chance for a family, to a fate worse than death.

Harry was so engulfed by the momentary feeling of self-pity that it took a minute for the rest of what Ollivander said to finally sink in. Not only would Ollivander arrange the necessary help for Sirius, but he would arrange for a safe place to live — one where Harry could visit anytime he desired.

Seconds later, Ollivander was alone in the Pensieve. Harry was back in the real world, grabbing a parchment and quill to write to Sirius. A family! He'd dreamed about having a family for so long, and now he'd finally have one!

A sweet aroma filled his senses as he entered The Leaky Cauldron. The sight of a full English breakfast caused his stomach to rumble a second time, and he decided that grabbing a quick bite was in order before heading to Ollivander's. Harry could barely sleep after the realization that he'd get to see his godfather again. He woke up late, barely finished his chores on time, and missed his own breakfast.

Ollivander was speaking with an older man Harry didn't know when he entered the shop. He went to the backroom to study, not wanting to interrupt. He was interrupted from his studies a while later by Ollivander entering the room carrying a potion for him to drink.

After two weeks of drinking the pleasant tasting elixir, Harry expected this one to be the same. The light blue potion was filled with glowing red specs and looked like it was a thin watery liquid. It turned out to be an incredibly thick and lumpy paste that was so tart it overwhelmed his taste buds and nearly caused him to vomit.

He finally managed to swallow the potion, but it left his mouth so numb he couldn't even talk for a few minutes afterwards.

"What was that?" Harry asked when he finally got the feeling back in his mouth.

"There is a book of potions on the shelf behind you, Mr. Potter," Ollivander replied from the table he was currently working at. "I will be busy for some time with a project, but I am sure you can remember enough in order to search for it."

"Of course you could not find it," Ollivander explained nearly three hours later when Harry had finally given up searching for the blasted potion. "The potion is not listed in that book."

"What?" Harry gasped out. "Then why did you just have me spend hours reading through it?"

"To teach you a valuable lesson — one I'm quite certain you learned,"

"What? I didn't find anything and spent more than two hours looking through a book that was completely useless!"

"Is that so, Mr. Potter?" asked Ollivander. "Then tell me, if the potion had been in the book, how would its blue color have helped you identify it?"

"It would have narrowed down which ingredients were used."

"How would it have done that?" Ollivander asked him.

"Well," answered Harry, "the primary color is the result of the first reaction, and the shade is changed later by the last absorbed reactant."

"Very good, Mr. Potter. And how would knowing the potion felt like a paste while retaining the appearance of a liquid help?"

"It would mean that the primary reactants were liquid and used a solid neutral base, which would narrow down which potions it could have been a lot."

Ollivander nodded and then asked, "And the glowing red specs in the potion?"

"I don't know, sir," Harry admitted. "I looked, but I couldn't find anything small and red like that in another potion."

"Think of more than just the physical appearance, Mr. Potter. From the potions you have knowledge of, what do you think could cause such a glow?"

After a minute of thinking, Harry ventured a guess, "Magic maybe? The potion could require an active magical catalyst."

"Close, Mr. Potter. Incorrect, but it was a good, educated guess nonetheless. Those specs were actually an entire dragon heart, shrunken, and then carefully ground to a powder. The potion itself is little more than a complex inhibitor for their magic and is required to prepare you for a ritual you will go through at the start of Lammas, which coincidentally is on the night of your birthday."

Harry blinked in surprise, but he didn't have time to think about it as Ollivander continued talking. "And you just proved that the book was hardly useless. I daresay you learned more in the last few hours than in any potion's class you have attended."

"Potions should not be just about memorizing and following recipes. There are times when you can change ingredients and still arrive at the same potion, or when a single potion has multiple names depending on the process in which you combined them. If you understand the fundamental laws of creating potions and learn _why_ ingredients react the way they do, there is little need to rely only on the recipes currently in front of you."

"You can just make potions like that?" Harry asked amazed. Snape never mentioned anything like that!

"Yes, Mr. Potter, you can. It was once how all potions were made, though only a few bother to learn the laws anymore. It's a testament of the sad state the Wizarding world today," Ollivander finished in a mournful whisper.

Harry wasn't sure how to respond, so instead asked, "You mentioned I'll be going through a ritual?"

"Ah, yes, the ritual. As a Wizard or Witch ages, their body slowly increases its ability to handle magic. This slow and steady increase is enough for the vast majority of people, though occasionally a person's magic will surpass their body's ability to handle it and they are forced to assist the process using other means. The ritual, as well as several potions and spells I have given you over the last few weeks, increases your body's ability to hold, channel, and resist magic. This is just one of the many preparations that must be done if we are to succeed, Mr. Potter."  
--

Harry glanced from his Ancient Runes text when he heard Ollivander enter the backroom and was surprised to see a pair of tan feminine legs next to Ollivander's blue robes. Startled, he looked up and saw Katie being lead into the backroom by Ollivander.

"Hey, Harry, I found all my notes if you still want them," she said, giving him a smile.

He was confused at first but then remembered she'd offered her Ancient Runes notes. He'd completely forgotten about it because so much had happened since then."Yeah, I could really use the help. I've been reading the book, but it's been a pain, trying to keep all the meanings straight."

"Oh, trust me. I know what exactly what you mean," Katie said with a sour look on her face. "I still have to go back and check the meaning of a lot of the runes, and I've taken two years of it!"

"Thanks. These should help me out a lot."

"Make sure you can read what I've written first, sometimes I get distracted copying down notes and write messy. Actually, I could start on my summer homework in Ancient Ruins while you work on that. That way I could help with any questions you have."

"An excellent idea, Ms. Bell," Ollivander said, not giving Harry a chance to respond. "Mr. Potter must get quite bored spending so much time studying alone."

Harry was confused why Ollivander would think that; he'd met the Dursleys and had to know this was tons better than being at home. Then he remembered their conversation last night. Ollivander wanted him to spend more time talking to people.

"Great," Katie said making her way to his table. "Mom will be happy that I didn't procrastinate with it like normal."

Harry spent the rest of morning and a good portion of the afternoon studying with Katie. It was nothing like studying with Hermione and Ron. With Hermione, studying was never fun: It was a battle. Each page hid information, and she did her best to fight for every scrap of it she could. She didn't understand that other people weren't like that, so studying with her was always difficult. Despite her eccentric attitude, Hermione's way was effective, and he learned a lot more with her than he ever would on his own. Studying with Ron, on the other hand, was far less efficient but more fun, since they generally spent just as much time joking around and complaining as they did studying.

Studying with Katie was different. She took her studies seriously but was relaxed about it, looking completely at ease writing her essay, occasionally glancing at her notes. It intrigued Harry as he very rarely felt at ease with anything other than flying.

She also made sure they took breaks throughout the day to talk and rest their minds. During these chats, Harry paid attention to how she talked, like Ollivander had suggested, and managed to pick up on a few mannerisms and hand gestures she used. He was surprised by just how difficult it was though as he never really thought about what he was going to say, he just talked. So trying to not only pay attention to what Katie said, but how exactly she said it, was something he had little experience doing.

His task wasn't made any easier by Katie's nervous fidgeting, or that her hands sometimes played with the hem of her skirt — a rather short skirt that emphasized her athletic legs quite well. Try as he might to look her in the eyes, Harry couldn't stop himself from sneaking glances at her legs.  
--

Leaving Ollivander's that afternoon, Katie couldn't help but smile. Today had turned out even better than she had planned!

After taking a shower this morning she let her mother know that she was going out to do homework with a friend and wouldn't be back till evening. Her mother would never have let her out of the house looking like she wanted to, so she went over to Alicia's to get ready. Alicia, Angelina, and she spent nearly two hours making sure her hair, makeup, and outfit were just right.

The skirt was shorter than any Katie ever wore before, ending mid-thigh, and her blouse was slightly see-through, just enough to hint at what was hidden underneath. As a whole she liked it: The outfit showed off her legs and breasts without making her look like a tart. The makeup had been carefully selected to give her a slightly older look by accenting her tanned skin, high cheek bones, and lips.

Alicia wasn't sure about the outfit though and warned her that while she'd get his attention, it may not be as great as she thought.

Being stared at hadn't been the disgusting feeling Alicia described at all. Quite the opposite really, as the thrill of having Harry's eyes on her body, glancing towards her legs, had nearly overwhelmed her! Before today she'd only ever felt such a strong exhilaration when pushing herself past normal limits to pull off a difficult Quidditch play. But this was as strong as any she ever felt from flying.

Thinking back to her conversation with Alicia and Angelina, she realized very little was as they described. Harry stared at her body like they knew he would, but it was in such an honest way that it made her feel special, powerful — not at all like the cheap and dirty feeling they described. It wasn't just the attention he gave her body that made the day so great — it was the attention he gave _her_.

At 15, Katie was already quite familiar with how boys acted like they were listening but really weren't. Harry hadn't done that though. He listened to what she said and never tuned her out as soon as she stopped talking about whatever he wanted to, like the others always did. Harry paid attention, even asked questions when she knew he couldn't really be interested in what she was talking about.

This realization caused Katie to blush slightly and brought another burst of excitement to the young woman. She quickened her pace through the crowd, wanting to get back and tell her friends everything.  
--

Angelina and Alicia, who Katie normally studied with, had taken their OWLs the previous year and received no homework for the summer because of it. Ollivander didn't mind her using the backroom to study with Harry, so he continued going to Ollivander's every other day, only now Katie showed up to do her homework with him. He was surprised by just how much he looked forward to those study sessions with her.

Taking Ollivander's advice, he began writing down all the information he could about Katie and was amazed by how much more he remembered about her because of it. It helped so much in talking with her that he began creating pages for Ron, Hermione, and a few of his other friends. There was so much he'd forgotten, even about his best friends. But even with writing everything down, Harry had some hard times in talking with Katie. It was mostly because she talked about places he didn't even know existed. There was so much more to the magical world than Diagon Alley and Hogwarts, and he'd never been to any of it!

Katie decided to expand their studies sessions to include exploring the different magical sections of England. On the days they studied together, they'd take an hour-long lunch break and visit in a different restaurant, or market, each time. A few times Mrs. Bell even brought them lunch, so they'd have more time to explore during their break. They even met up on their days off to go exploring somewhere neither of them had been before.

Most of the places they explored were similar to Diagon Alley, hidden in the middle of Muggle areas. There were a couple places they went that really stood out though.

The Cetera Zoo was a wooden tower about as wide as Gryffindor tower, but much taller. It was so tall it seemed to go all the way up past the clouds and into heaven itself.

He'd been to a Muggle zoo shortly before learning that he was a wizard, but it was nothing like this. The idea was the same, to see rare and exotic animals, but unlike a Muggle zoo, you didn't stand outside and merely look in at them. Each floor was made up of four slightly raised platforms lined with chairs. By taking a seat on one of the chairs, a mental image of yourself was projected into the creature's natural habitat. You could walk around and observe the animals as if you were really there, but still be completely safe thousands of kilometers away.

Harry and Katie spent nearly the entire day visiting the different creatures, laughing, and having a great time. The fact that nothing they did actually affected the creatures helped a lot. They surely wouldn't have been able to have a snowball fight in front of an Abominable Snowman in real life. Of course trying to douse a Fire Crab with water, climb a huge scarlet Liondragon, and seek a Snidget wouldn't have been smart either.

All in all Harry had a great time, though he did make it a point to stay clear of any snakes and serpents. Ever since second year, he made sure to stay clear of them. He knew being a Parslemouth was part of him and nothing would ever change that, but he didn't like to think of it. If he could avoid them, he could shove it out of him, most of the time. He was sure Katie realized he was avoiding them on purpose, but she didn't say anything, and for that he was quite thankful.

It was nearly dinnertime when they exited the tower, their stomachs aching for food and legs sore from climbing all the stairs. The Leaky Cauldron was completely full by the time they got there, and neither felt like waiting. After a brief Floo call home, Katie invited Harry over for dinner, which he reluctantly agreed to. His hunger over-powered his reluctance to be a bother — an involuntary reaction left over from being raised by the Dursleys.  
--

Another one of their all-day adventures was spent at the bottom of the ocean exploring the ruins of an ancient city, Kér Ys. Once a beautiful and thriving kingdom built completely under water, it was destroyed by the red knight, a Dark Wizard from about two thousand years ago.

There was something about the city. He didn't know what it was, but the moment they arrived Harry wanted to learn about it, wanted to know its story and its history. He signed up for the group tour to go through the main section of the ruins and learn about the city. A tour of the city was normally only offered a few times a year, but because of the World Cup they were available for most the day.

The tour was amazing for Harry. All the time he spent stuck in his cupboard had given him a great imagination, and he used it now creating several possibilities as to what it must have been like back then. In his mind, the city came to life, evolving as he listened to the Wizard explain its history.

As they moved on through the tour, he noticed Katie wasn't enjoying herself. She wore a fake smile and pretended to be interested, probably for his sake, but he'd spent enough time with her to tell the difference. She barely spoke to him, and that bothered him because they normally spent all their time talking, getting to know each other better and having fun. Unfortunately, with so many people around, he couldn't just ask her what was wrong. He jumped at the chance to go exploring by themselves, hoping that once they were alone she'd talk to him again and maybe find out what was bothering her.

The center sections of the ruins were still protected by magic, but all the outer sections were outside of the magical dome. When an older Witch cast a spell on them that would let them walk around in the water without having to swim, they wouldn't even get wet. The cool air whipped violently around him, slowly settling down to form a translucent barrier against the sea. It almost felt like he was flying, the air moving continuously moving around his body.

Relishing in the wonderful feeling of the spell, he didn't even notice the tour-Witch explain the complexities of the spell. So he was surprised when he couldn't talk with Katie through the barrier of bubbles. He did notice, however, that when he stood really close to her their bubbles would combine into one, and they could talk just fine. There was no way he would be able stay close enough to her for the barriers to stay combined, so he suggested they hold each other's hands. It was a little awkward at first, but he held Hermione's hand several times over the years and soon became comfortable enough with Katie to carry on a conversation.

Being submerged for the last two thousand years, the outer ruins were in a lot better shape than the central ones, and the air bubble charm let them inspect the ruins perfectly! The large stone and crystal city was overgrown with plants and sea-life, but there were enough bare sections that Harry could see its previous splendor. His imagination didn't do it justice. They spent a long time exploring the full extent of the ruins and a feeling of incredible sadness settled deep within his heart at the destruction of such a beautiful city.

The most amazing, and saddest, part of the ruins was near the entrance to the city where an ancient oak tree still stood. Most of the outer branches were charred black, but the trunk and inner part of the branches were still alive and thriving. Even after the centuries Harry could still feel the immense magical power, which once powered the wards of the city, emanating from the tree.

At that moment, he realized why this city touched him so: his dream and what would happen in the future. This would happen to his world, to Hogwarts, to Diagon Alley. He vowed that he'd change things; he wouldn't let his world become a ruin.  
--

Katie was in a great mood as she said goodbye to him late that evening, thanking him for offering to help set up their camp for the World Cup in a couple days.

Harry had been confusing her lately. He always gave her a lot of attention, and they spent most of their time together, but he never made any moves on her! And she even went out of her way to make sure he had plenty of opportunities to do so. She'd almost given up hope when her mom, of all people, intervened. After a long, and somewhat embarrassing, talk, she'd decided to give him a bit longer, and if he hadn't made a move by the time they started the camp-out for the World Cup, she'd make it for him. Finally today he made one move, albeit a small one. But after two weeks of frustration, she'd take just about anything.

She'd been angry when Harry decided to join a tour of the ruins. This was to be their last full day together before she left to camp out for the World Cup, and she wanted to be alone with Harry, not stuck with a large group of people. When he jumped at the opportunity to explore the underwater sections by themselves, she'd been elated. Maybe all wasn't lost; maybe he wanted to be alone with her as much as she did with him.

They'd only been underwater for a minute when Harry started acting weird and standing incredibly close to her whenever he talked. She wasn't sure why he didn't just use the bubbles to talk back and forth like they'd been told, but when he finally suggested they hold hands to keep the bubbles formed into one, she understood. He was using it as an excuse!

It was such an adorable thing to do, and so like Harry. Even with all the signs she'd been giving him, he was still a little afraid that she'd say no and came up with an excuse. She grinned. Now that she knew he was interested, she'd make the next move so blatant that even he couldn't misunderstand it.  
--

Of course Harry didn't spend all his time with Katie. Much of his time was still spent reading, listening to Ollivander, or in the Pensieve. Ollivander had taken to visiting him for a couple hours each night to assist with practical lessons. Because he was studying Ancient Runes with Katie, Ollivander would teach him about Ancient Traditions of the Wizarding World and about the lives of several important wizards and witches throughout history. While these subjects didn't really interest Harry, they weren't nearly as boring History of Magic, and he considered it a small price to pay for all the help Ollivander gave him.

"As you seem to focus on combat," Ollivander said after walking in on him practicing a spell from one of the dueling books. "I will make this lesson related to dueling.

"It is not always the strongest opponent or the most knowledgeable opponent who wins. There are many factors involved, and one of the most important is speed: physical speed in casting a spell, as well as mental speed in knowing which spell to cast. But there is also the quality of the spells being cast, and that, Mr. Potter, is something that most wizards and witches have forgotten. Being able to cast a spell better than your opponent is just as crucial as knowing the spell itself. Actually, I would say it is more important to be able to cast a few simple spells perfectly than being able to cast many spells decently."

"But why? Once you're able to cast the spell, what does it matter?" Harry asked.

"It matters, Mr. Potter. Think on this for a moment: There are two duelers, each with about the same skill, speed, and power. The first is using a wide variety of complex spells, and the second is using but a mere few simple spells that he has perfected. The first dueler only needs one complex spell to hit his opponent, and he'd win. Now the second dueler's spells are simple and less powerful; however, because he has perfected these few spells, his opponent's complex shield will not last against the spells. This allows the second dueler to press his opponent into a defensive position where he'll likely be taking a small amount of damage. It may take some time, but the second dueler will, more than likely, win using his 'lesser' spells."

"But how could the spells get through the shield?" asked Harry. "Shouldn't the more complex and powerful shield stop such simple spells?"

"Yes and no, Mr. Potter," Ollivander answered. "A complex shield should, and would, be able to stop any one of those spells; however, because the second dueler spent so much time perfecting them, and because they would be sent in great numbers and speed, the more complex shield would be penetrated."

"Can't the other dueler just use a more powerful shield then?"

"Perhaps I should explain what I mean by perfecting a spell, Mr. Potter. It may make more sense then. Using the word power is not entirely accurate when talking about spells, as measuring the effect of magic is far too complex for a single term. If we take two wizards of about the same skill and magical power and have them cast the same spell, it should have about the same effect. However, if one of the wizards were to cast the spell significantly better than the other, then that spell would have a greater effect. This would make it appear that one wizard is more powerful than the other, when really all that has changed is the spell being cast better and more efficiently. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Harry answered, understanding what he said but still slightly confused. "It's something like how a better matched wand makes the spells more efficient. But why would someone duel with spells they couldn't cast right?"

"It is not that he would not cast the spell correctly, Mr. Potter. It is that casting spells is more complex than you believe. Let me give you another example," Ollivander said as two rocks appeared floating in the air in front of them, each the size of his fist.

"Look at these two rocks, Mr. Potter. From the outside, they look the same. However, when we split them open and look at the insides, there is a difference. See how one has stress lines and small imperfections throughout, while the other does not?"

Harry nodded.

"Now let us consider each rock is a spell, the same spell but cast by two different wizards. The one with the imperfections was cast by someone who learned the spell, was able to cast it well, and then moved on to learn a new spell. The second rock, the one with no imperfections, was cast by a wizard who instead of moving on to the next spell, spent a much larger amount of time honing his ability to cast that particular spell to near perfection. The spells may be cast by two wizards who are equal in power, but because of the lack of imperfections, the second rock is stronger than the first, correct?"

Harry nodded again, beginning to grasp what Ollivander was talking about.

"Let us then say that the first wizard is upset that the second wizard's spell seemed more powerful and tried to make his own spell even more powerful by forcing more magic into it." Ollivander gestured with his hand and the first rock grew about twice its size, "Now the first rock is larger and uses more magic than the second. However, if you look closely, you'll see that not only does the first rock still have imperfections but that the imperfections are, in fact, even more prominent now than they were originally. While the larger rock technically has more power than the smaller, if we test them, we'll find that the effect of the smaller rock is actually greater than the effect of the larger rock."

With a wave from Ollivander's wand two thick glass shields appeared a couple meters away from them. He flicked the wand again and the larger of the two rocks flew towards the first shield, shattering on impact and leaving a few cracks in the glass. The smaller rock then flew towards the second shield. But instead of shattering like the first rock did, it cracked into only a few pieces and fell to the ground. Nearly the entire second shield was filled with cracks growing outwards from the impact, and Harry thought he could see a few open gaps where pieces of the shield broke away completely.

"That, Mr. Potter, is why using a perfected, but less powerful, spell would allow the Wizard to win the duel."

At Ollivander's insistence Harry spent the next three days practicing only one spell, the levitation charm. Ollivander wouldn't tell him what he should be trying to learn from it all, only that he wanted Harry to pay as much attention as he could to the spell. Though he did give one last piece of advice before leaving: "Concentrate on the basics, and all else will fall into place."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Preparing for the girls' camping trip was a completely different experience than he thought it would be. He'd set up a tent once before. Dudley had decided he wanted to be an explorer when he grew up, and Harry was the one forced to put it all together. But that experience was nothing like this.

The first thing he realized was that, when together, girls were confusing. Mr. Bell, Lee, and Harry suddenly found three hyper girls hugging them and thanking them for volunteering to move all the furniture into the tents for them. To say Harry was confused was an understatement. He didn't mind moving the furniture, it was just that he'd been talking to Mr. Bell and Lee for a while, waiting on the girls, and knew none of them had volunteered.

"I wouldn't plan on trying to understand women, Harry," Mr. Bell said with a laugh, when he mentioned his confusion. "It'll be a long wait for a train that won't come."

The first tent looked like a normal, two-person Muggle tent from the outside, but it was completely magical on the inside. There were three rooms in the tent: a small bedroom with a bathroom attached, a kitchen, and a small family room. They moved a kitchen table, its chairs, and two sofas into the family room, while the girls turned the bedroom into a storage area for food and other supplies for their month-long campout.

The second tent was just one large room, about twelve meters wide and eight meters deep, which the three girls were going to use as their bedroom. Harry nearly laughed when he saw the furniture they were going to move into the small tent: three beds, three comfy armchairs, three large armoires, one dressing mirror, and a vanity table. Harry was used to redoing chores over and over again, so re-arranging the furniture was no big deal to him. Lee, however, shot Angelina a deadly glare after the third time and refused to do it again. He wasn't sure what Angelina said to him, but Lee came back about ten minutes later in a much better mood.

Harry didn't mind all the work, though, as he'd done far worse for the Dursleys. He knew, of course, the Dursleys would never be pleased with anything he did, but he still helped. Harry hated feeling that maybe they were right; maybe he really was useless and didn't deserve anything. He never realized, until now at least, that helping someone could feel … good. But seeing the happiness on the faces of the three girls when they finished was an amazing feeling, one he hoped he'd feel again soon.

The walk to the campsite was only about thirty minutes from where they Floo'd to, and Harry had a lot of fun talking and joking around with them. He was actually surprised with how things were going with Katie, Angelina, Alicia, and Lee. At school he used to feel like an outsider because of how well they knew each other, but things were different this time.

Spending so much time talking with Katie this summer and getting Ollivander's help in learning to pay attention and be an active participant in the conversation was a huge help, and Harry found himself not only being more involved in a lot of the conversations but actually leading several of them. He was just talking to Katie like normal when, to his surprise, the others joined in it as well. No longer was he standing towards the back of the group listening to everyone else, but in the middle, with Katie, having a great time.

After finishing putting both the tents back together, Harry spent an hour or so goofing off with them before deciding to head back to Ollivander's. As he turned around to walk back towards the Floo, Katie invited him to dinner the following night to show how much she appreciated all his hard work.

Harry smiled as the happiness he'd felt earlier returned. It was nice to help them, but it felt even better that she appreciated it. Then Katie gave him a long hug that completely stopped him in his tracks. Harry wasn't used to physical affection — even Hermione's hugs still made him feel a little awkward — but another part enjoyed the fell of her body pressing against his own.  
--

"Ah, the frustration has set in, yet you are still practicing I see," Ollivander said as he watched Harry make unnaturally rigid and controlled wand movements for the spell.

"Good, good. A little longer than I thought it would take, but that is a testament of your dedication. Yes, very good indeed."

"What do you mean good? It's bloody horrible!" Harry nearly shouted as he ran his hand through his hair, frustration getting the best of him. "I can't even cast a first year spell anymore!"

"That is exactly what I wanted, Mr. Potter. There are times when you learn more in failure than you do in success."

"But I haven't learned anything! It only took me a few hours to learn the spell the first time, and it was my first spell! I've spent nearly 20 hours on this now, and I only seem to be getting worse!"

"You have learned more than you realize, Mr. Potter," Ollivander said in calm and collected voice. "That is why I am here today, to help you understand. Do not concern yourself with the hours you spent on this. Until you learn to truly use magic, I would not expect you to perfect more than one or two spells in a month's time."

"But I _can_ use magic!" replied Harry. Then he thought about this last week and added, "Well, most of the time anyway."

"No, Mr. Potter. You have been taught to cast spells. You know little of magic and how to truly wield it; but worry not, you will learn. First, however, tell me what you have done with this task."

Calming down slightly, Harry explained how the first two days actually went well for him. On the second day of casting the spell nearly non-stop, he began to notice a few details about the effects of the spell and experimented with them. By the end of the day, he was able to slightly change how the levitation spell picked up an item, making it more stable.

Ollivander nodded. He expected nothing less than for Harry to notice the differences.

"What really started all the problems was when I noticed that sometimes the spell worked better than others, for no reason. I checked and re-checked, but it kept happening. I tried paying attention to every detail when casting the spell, but it didn't work. My spells became worse and worse, and eventually I couldn't even cast the spell at all! I don't know what I'm doing wrong!"

"Do you not see what you did wrong, Mr. Potter? The harder you try to force magic to do as you command, the less you succeed, correct?"

Harry nodded, and Ollivander continued, "Who are you to force magic to submit to you? Magic has existed since the beginning of time. Your wand has existed for more than 50 years and knows far more about how to cast spells than you do. Why should they submit to your will? You, who is not yet 14 years old and have only known of magic for 3 years!"

"I don't know!" snapped Harry. Though he wouldn't admit it, Ollivander's words struck far too close to home. He normally managed to keep it buried, but it was always there, always a nagging thought in the back of his mind: the self-doubt about being a wizard, about being the Boy-Who-Lived. _Why was he a wizard? What made him so special?_

"Of course you do not, because there is no reason."

Harry's heart plummeted in his chest. _Maybe the Dursleys were right; maybe he was as worthless as they'd always said._

"True Magic is perfection, Mr. Potter. The spell's design may be flawed, the wand may be flawed, and the wizard may be flawed, but magic is flawless. No wizard can control, or force magic to do as they command. This is the important part, Mr. Potter. Magic _allows_ the wizard to cast the spell; the wizard cannot force it."

"You must learn not to try and force the magic, but to trust it. It knows what it is doing, just as your wand knows what to do. Do not worry about the effect of the spell; magic will do its part. Your wand, through you, will understand the currents you feel and know what minute changes must be made to its movements. Concentrate only on yourself, on the feeling of your magic and the magic around you."

Ollivander stopped for a moment and looked Harry in the eyes, "Trust, Mr. Potter, is the key. Trust in magic. Trust that the spell will do what it should, trust in your wand to do as it must, and trust in yourself that the spell will succeed."

Harry's mind whirled with everything that he had just learned. _Magic was alive, and he had to trust it? Why had no one ever told him about that before? And how could he feel magic? Did Hermione know? _

"Um, sir?" said Harry, trying to straighten out his thoughts. "What do you mean by feel your magic?"

Ollivander looked at him a second then asked, "Do they not teach you to feel magic at Hogwarts Mr. Potter?"

"No, sir. I mean, they haven't taught me at least, and I'm pretty sure my friends don't know how either. I remember some of the older students mentioning something about it before, but I think they were talking about Apparating."

"Yes, being able to feel your magic is an integral part of Apparation, but it is far more than that. It was once one of the primary lessons taught to wizards. How do they expect you to learn magic properly without being able to feel it? No matter, it seems the other lessons must be put on hold for the moment. This is more important for you to learn."

"Hold your wand and close your eyes, Mr. Potter. Concentrate on the feeling of the wand, on how it felt in my shop the first time you held it and continue to do so even after you succeed."

Nearly an hour later, he realized he was no longer concentrating on the memory but actually feeling it! Harry couldn't believe that he'd ever forgotten how his magic felt. Warmth encompassed his entire body like it had the first time he picked up his wand years ago, only it was more now. His entire body, from his toes to his hair felt invigorated and alive. By the time he fell asleep that night, Harry could bring back the feeling at will, though he'd lose it the moment his concentration broke.

The happiness he felt faded the next morning when Ollivander informed him that that had only been the first step.  
--

Angelina found Katie just where she was before she'd gone in to take a shower, sitting on her bed hugging a pillow to her chest.

"You've been sitting around like that since Harry left over an hour ago! Are you going to tell us or what?" she asked, sitting down next to Katie.

Alicia decided her own shower could wait, and she dropped down on the other side of Katie. "Yeah, spill it girl! You two disappeared for _hours_ last night. Did you finally kiss?"

Katie blushed at the question and nodded her head.

The two older girls shared a grin, "Well, how was it?"

"Incredible, amazing even!" Katie quickly told her friends with a smile. "But also confusing, and even a little terrifying. I don't know how to describe it really. It was so different than anything either of you ever described."

Alicia and Angelina shared a look. _Just what did the two of them do_ _last night?_

Katie continued before they had a chance to ask. "I knew he'd have to go back after we all finished dinner and wanted to tell him Happy Birthday first. His reaction was anything but what I expected though." She stopped a moment to hug the pillow a little tighter and continued, "I heard the rumors, you know. About his family and what Fred and George said after second year, but it never really clicked. Did you know that no one has ever said Happy Birthday to him before? Not once! I was the first."

"When he told me that…" Katie sighed softly to herself. "He looked so adorable, and his voice was so innocent, so honest. I just knew it was the right moment; I leaned forward and kissed him. He stiffened in surprise, which I half expected, but when he didn't kiss me back after a few moments I broke it off. I thought maybe I misunderstood; maybe he didn't like me… But then his arms shot around me and pulled me back into him."

She smiled for a moment and then continued, her voice softer, "The next kiss was just like him, so soft, so shy and unsure, but there was something else there too, something cold and powerful."

She shook her head, as if trying to shake off the memories. "That's when it happened. I opened my eyes during the kiss and looked at him. His eyes were looking directly into mine, and there was so much power in them, in him. So much raw emotion. He was completely open to me. I could see directly into his soul, and what I saw there… I'll never forget. He was desperate for affection, for the love he's been denied all his life, but he was scared too. He was scared of me, of what he was feeling, and scared I'd hurt him even worse than he already had been. And pain, Merlin, was there pain — his past, his future. It was like his very soul was crying out for help and for someone to take away the pain."

A moment of silence fell where Angelina and Alicia did nothing but just stare at her. She felt uncomfortable and decided to lighten the mood a little. "Did I mention that his arse felt so much better than I imaged it would?"

That was enough to bring her two friends back, and they quickly demanded to know what else their innocent young friend had done last night.  
--

Harry sucked in ragged breaths as he tried to get his breathing under control from running so hard. He really shouldn't have slept in late!

Having dinner with Katie, Alicia, Angelina, and Lee ended up being loads of fun. Unfortunately, time flew by and before he knew it, it was far too late for him to leave. Not that he wanted to leave, far from it, in fact. Blushing as the thoughts of last night raced through his mind, Harry took a few calming breaths before entering Ollivander's shop.

"It is wise, Mr. Potter, to prepare a change of clothes when spending a night with your young lady," Ollivander commented with a grin. "That you are wearing the same outfit as you were yesterday suggests much about your night indeed."

Mortified, he was sure his face was redder than Ron's hair. He wasn't sure about what happened last night, or at least why it happened…

"Ah, the splendor of youth," Ollivander laughed.

"Where are we doing the ritual, sir?"

"My family's estate in Greece," Ollivander answered as he continued to pack some magical components he'd need.

"Greece?" Harry managed to ask through his shock. "How can we be going to Greece? I thought this was only going to be for a night? And how can we even get there? I thought you could only Apparate yourself? At least that was what I was told."

"I will not be Apparating," Ollivander replied, disgust evident in his voice. "There are many other forms of travel, Mr. Potter. It is detestable that grown wizards still Apparate, even more so that many do not learn that much."

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry said quickly, afraid he had upset, or worse, disappointed, Ollivander. "I didn't know."

"Of course you did not, Mr. Potter," said Ollivander, his voice becoming calm once more. "Not with things how they are today. Apparation is merely one of the many steps in the process of mastering Teleportation. There was a time when one would not even be considered a wizard until he had mastered Traveling, the fifth step of Teleportation. Alas, that was long ago during the golden age of wizardry, before the plague of lethargy set upon our society. Today, it is rare for a grown wizard to even know what Traveling is."

"Before Hogwarts existed, Mr. Potter, wizards were apprenticed to a master of the art and spent many years watching, learning, and perfecting magic. They did not have common spell books to learn from and spent much of their time creating new magic to do what needed to be done. Today's wizards live off the greatness of those who came long before them, but do nothing to add to it."

Ollivander sighed sadly, "No longer do wizards create magic to do what is needed. Instead, they change their needs to fit the spells already known. With each passing generation our once great society is becoming more and more stagnant."

"Enough lecturing for now though," said Ollivander as his wand appeared in his hand. "We must leave for your ritual."

Harry gasped in surprise as he looked around and found himself in a courtyard. He hadn't felt anything. One second he was in Diagon Alley and the next he was apparently in Greece!

Looking around, Harry saw the courtyard was in the middle of a large home. The walls were made of brick and all but one had large windows and doors leading into the house. The one wall without them had a beautiful mural of a large gathering in the courtyard painted on it. The mural looked incredibly lifelike, there were about a dozen people in the painting, and an old man near the north wall seemed to have everyone's attention.

"Oratory was very important to the Greeks," Ollivander said from right behind Harry. "On many occasions, the family would watch and listen as stories were told or debates held. This scene depicts the oldest generation passing down stories and knowledge to the younger generations."

Ollivander walked up to the painting and spoke a few words Harry didn't understand to the old man. A moment later, Ollivander ducked slightly and walked straight through the painting!

Since entering the wizarding world, Harry had seen a lot of magic, but sometimes it still amazed him. He quickly followed Ollivander through the painting and found himself in a narrow tunnel. It smelled of earth and damp stone, descending steeply beneath the ground. Harry walked blindly through the tunnels until his eyes adjusted, and he saw a faint light ahead, followed by another, and then another. Finally, after a few minutes of wandering in the dark, he reached the bottom of the tunnel and came out into a large cave. Faint light from the masses of luminous fungi on the walls lit up the cave, which looked to be about twenty meters across and continued back as far as the eye could see.

Ollivander led him down another passage, jagged rocks shot out from the floor and ceiling like the teeth of a giant dragon, to a cavern which glowed red. With each step, the humid air grew warmer and warmer until Harry stood beside the scalding waters of a vivid red spring.

"I finished most of the preparations for the ritual earlier, but there are a few more that must be completed as the time of your birth grows nearer. For now, rest on the altar. The preparations will take some time to complete and should make you quite drowsy."

He'd been concentrating on the spring and hadn't even noticed the rest of the cavern. There was a stone altar to the right edge of the spring and beyond that row after row of benches were carved into stone floor. On the other side of the spring was a large boulder with runes etched into it and a passageway leading further back.

While he was used to not sleeping on the most comfortable of beds, the hot, humid, air made it hard for him to get any rest. After only a few moments, he found himself covered in a thin layer of water, a combination of sweat and humidity, which made his clothes cling uncomfortably to his body. Ollivander was right, though, and his mind became more and more muddled with each passing second. It was almost like he was awake but dreaming at the same time. He could still see and hear what was going on around him, but it felt like it was happening to someone else — like it was a dream, not reality.

He saw the runes on the boulder glow, heard the spring become more violent, and felt the air become rotten and acidic. The water level of the spring rose, and soon the edge of the spring was touching the altar. The water vaporized the moment it touched the altar and began to hover in the air above his body, growing and surrounding him like a cocoon, until it suddenly entered his body.

The detached dream-like state fled as blinding pain engulfed his body. He could feel it everywhere; every limb, every finger and toe, even his skin and hair felt like they were on fire. It was as if he was being cooked alive, only from the inside out. He wanted to scream, to shout, to run away from the pain, and to curl up in a tight ball and give up. But he couldn't, and the mental pain was almost as bad as the physical pain itself. He was a prisoner now — a prisoner in his own mind, no longer able to control his body.

The cloud of vaporized water began to enter his body faster and faster, and the pain became more intense with each passing moment. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Harry couldn't handle the pain anymore, and he screamed.

Only it wasn't a scream that came out.

A giant roar emanated from his throat and then, moments later, flames shot out of his mouth.

The very air itself seemed to be set alight by the flames. It was an awe-inspiring sight, seeing the entire cavern engulfed in fire. He found it odd that he wasn't the least bit worried about being burnt alive.

The flames burnt themselves out, and Harry saw himself lying naked on the altar, remnants of his clothes smoldering. The pain was gone, but the odd feeling of being in a dream had returned. It was then that Harry noticed the spring had frozen over was glowing blue now, not red.

He felt himself being drawn towards the frozen spring. Down and down he floated until he saw it — a shiny black gem, gleaming with a torrent and pulsating with energy. The longer he starred, the more intense it burned. Suddenly, Harry had an urge to touch it and extended his hand without hesitation.

He felt as if his hands were frozen to the gem as the chill swept through his body, racing along his veins in angry waves. Voices of a foreign tongue filled his head, and images began flashing through his mind. Some of the images Harry knew: his childhood with the Dursleys, of Hogwarts, his friends, and a few of the bleak memories of the future. But there were others that he'd never seen before and hadn't been alive to see.

Suddenly, the voices died down, and Harry was left feeling cool and refreshed, at ease with what had happened. He smiled.

As if mocking his good mood, the gem flashed red, and he found himself being flung backwards up the spring and headlong into the Altar. He screamed from the blazing pain, and darkness rushed up to engulf him.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

When Harry woke, he found himself lying on a bed in Ollivander's back room where the table he studied at normally stood. He moaned as he tried to move, feeling pain in places he didn't even know existed. Ollivander must've heard his moan because he came in a moment later and gave Harry several potions.

"Wha... What happened?" Harry tried to ask, though it came out as little more than a raspy groan.

"Sleep now, Mr. Potter," said Ollivander. "You will feel better once those potions have time to work. We will speak then."

The next time Harry woke, the pain was still there, but it was much more manageable. He opened his eyes and saw Ollivander standing over him, another potion in hand.

"Just one last potion, Mr. Potter, and then we will talk about what happened."

Harry managed to nod his head and drank the potion, trying not to gag from the horrible taste.

"The ritual was successful, Mr. Potter," Ollivander told him. "Even more so than I anticipated. I will tell you what happened, but I would first like to hear exactly what you remember."

The memories of what happened were vivid, and he explained everything that happened in as much detail as he could.

"Very interesting, Mr. Potter. I would not have expected this to occur, though I am greatly pleased that it has."

"What did happen, sir?" Harry asked.

"You received unexpected help, Mr. Potter. To what end I do not know, but I will explain what I believe has happened," Ollivander said as he took a seat on the chair next to the bed. "The large gem you described was made of Obsidian and has served as the anchor for the wards of my family's lands for more than a millennium. The anchor is tied directly to the master of estate and has passed down from parent to child, following the bloodline as closely as possible.

"Due to the closeness of the bond formed," Ollivander continued, "and to the attention needed to sustain the wards, each master put a portion of himself into the anchor — a copy of sorts. While this helps to power and control the wards, it also influences the anchor. In short, it is the combination of all the experiences, knowledge, and personalities of those echoes. The anchor uses that knowledge to control the wards and the estate, though the current master can take direct control himself in dire circumstances.

"I, however, am the last living member of my family. When I die, the wards, and my family's estate, will perish as well. I believe the anchor has chosen for you to be its next Master."

"Okay," Harry said slowly. "I understand that much. Well, at least a little. But what happened exactly? Did it make a copy of me in there?"

"It has not made an echo of you yet, as I am still the current master, but I believe it has selected you to be its next master — an heir of sorts. I do not know exactly what it did do to you, however. Only time will show the results of what has happened. Is this not exciting, Mr. Potter?" Ollivander asked eagerly, the smile on his face showing just how happy he was with what happened. "It has been a long time since I have witnessed anything quite so interesting."

Harry groaned and thought, _Why me?_ _A rock did something, and he doesn't know what it was…_ _I can think of many other terms than exciting and interesting for this._

"I do believe that this will work out quite well for you. The fate of my family's estate is now tied directly to you. If you succeed in becoming more powerful, it will become more powerful. If you fail, however, it too will fail. And if you perish, it, along with my lands, will perish. As such, whatever did occur must be to help you, for helping you is now helping itself."  
--

Harry stifled a groan as he entered The Leaky Cauldron that evening. The intense pain from the ritual had faded, but the soreness that replaced it wasn't much better. It'd been a long and hard day for Harry, and the fact that he was already much later than normal in leaving Ollivanders' shop didn't help his mood any. Diagon Alley was much more crowded now that the World Cup was closer, and today it was so packed that Harry had to push and squeeze his way through everyone.

While trying to move through the crowded inn, he accidentally stumbled into one the chairs. He looked over to apologize to the person and was surprised to see it was Gabric, the foreigner he'd met when he'd been sick earlier in the summer. He apologized, introduced himself again, and asked Gabric how he was enjoying England and if he needed anything. Talking to more adults had become a bit of habit since Ollivander's lessons on getting to know people, and they talked for quite a few minutes before Harry decided he really did need to go back to his uncle's — it'd been three days since he'd been back there at all.

The sun had set some time ago when he finally made it back to Privet Drive. Finding the front door already locked, he went around the house and let himself in the back door. Dudley always left it unlocked in case he needed to sneak in or out late at night. Stepping inside Harry saw his relatives on the sofa in front of the tube. Uncle Vernon, he noted, looked furious.

_Oh well,_ he thought, mentally sighing, _looks like things are back to normal._

"Hello, Uncle Vernon," Harry said as pleasantly as he could.

"You!" His uncle hissed between his clenched teeth, partially surprisingly Harry with the amount of hatred in his voice. He was used to his uncle being angry at him, but he hadn't even been home in a few days. What could they be blaming him for this time?

"HOW DARE YOU COME BACK AND ENTER THIS HOUSE LIKE YOU BLOODY WELL OWN IT! FOR DAYS THOSE CREATURES HAVE DESTROYED THIS HOUSE! AND JUST WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, BOY?! IF YOU CAN STAY AWAY FOR THREE DAYS, THERE IS NO REASON FOR YOU TO COME BACK AT ALL!"

Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw the lights of their neighbor's house flicker on. Soon he knew their curtains would rustle, and they'd use the phone to wake other neighbors, letting them what was happening with the Dursley's misfit nephew. Idly, he wondered if Uncle Vernon knew they'd be the talk of the block for the next week, would he still bellow?

Vernon slowly began stalking towards Harry, becoming more enraged with every step. Though it'd been sometime since his uncle was this furious, Harry still knew what it meant, and he wasn't looking forward to this confrontation at all. "Take your freakish things and leave, Boy! I WANT YOU OUT OF…"

Vernon never finished what he was going to say because, at that very moment, the door was thrown open and a ragged and menacing looking Sirius Black entered the house.  
--

It was raining. A light drizzle sifted down out of the bleak sky, falling softly onto the stone pathway leading up to the house. He sat underneath an ancient tree outside of Ollivander's family estate in Greece, and the smile on Harry's face clearly showed that the dreary weather did nothing to affect his mood.

He just couldn't believe his luck. Sirius was back, and he didn't have to stay at the Dursleys for the rest of the summer!

A sound to his left caught Harry's attention; his green eyes scanned the path nearby when he was suddenly tackled to the ground. He looked up just in time to see the huge black dog slobber and lick his face.

"Sirius!" Harry yelled, half in disgust and half in laughter.

"You weren't in the house when I woke up, so I changed into Padfoot to find you. I should have figured you'd be out here. James and I used to spend a lot of our time joking around under a tree just like this near the south end of the lake," Sirius said with a laugh. Then he added, "The times when we weren't breaking rules, that is."

"Really?" Harry asked. "Hermione, Ron, and I lay under the tree between Hagrid's hut and the lake. It's one of my favorite places!"

"I know. I saw you a few times last year. Many of our best pranks, and conquests, were planned and celebrated there.

"Actually, take a bit of advice and start placing some twigs around the tree so you know when someone is coming up on you. We learned that the hard way during our third year when Snivellus snuck close enough to overhear us planning one of our pranks."

"Tell me about some of them?" asked Harry, thrilled to at last hear about his father.

"Our largest prank was actually done during the summer after our fourth year. We wrote a story for _The Daily Prophet _and managed to get it published, but of course we didn't use our real names. It took a good bit of work, but we managed to spike the drinks of all the editors with a potion that made them see the fake story we wanted them to see. However, the story everyone else saw the next morning was a warning from the Ministry of Magic. It said they would be cleaning the Floo network over the next couple days and everyone who wanted to remain connected to the Floo Network needed to use a couple common household potions in their hearth."

"The prank was, when you combined those potions together, it produced one of the worse smells known to man," Sirius grinned wolfishly. "The heat from the fire actually fed the reaction, making it last for hours. By the time the reaction stopped not only did the whole house stink, but the smell filtered through the Floo Network. Everyone that was attached to the Floo Network, even the Ministry, smelled for days!"

Sirius was laughing so hard that Harry began to laugh as well, partially at the thought of that stink going through everyone's house but mainly at seeing his godfather so happy.

After they got their laughing under control, Sirius began another story, and Harry couldn't have wiped the smile off his face if he wanted to. He was with Sirius now, with his family.

"…in the Great Hall for breakfast," Sirius was saying as Harry forced himself to pay attention again. "We snuck into Snape's bedroom one morning before he woke up and nailed him with a few spells, nothing that left a trace to tip him off though. We made sure to arrive to the Great Hall a few minutes before him acting all sick. Instead of running to the bathroom to throw up, we threw up on the food in front of Snivellus' normal spot!"

"It really wasn't vomit. It was a charm Remus cast from the entrance at the same time we were throwing up. A few moments later that Snape came in. To him, it looked and smelled like a delicious breakfast, but to the rest of the Hall it looked like he was eating food covered in our vomit!"

Harry really laughed that time while he imagined what the rumors were like after that.

"Of course one of my favorites was to use James' Invisibility Cloak and just charm random people in the halls. It was simple, but it provided results. It was always a fun one to do when one of us was bored. You should have seen what we did with that cloak! Oh, the pranks we played with that thing…"

"That's how you never got caught then, the Invisibility Cloak?" Harry asked.

"Oh no, we wanted to got caught most the time."

"You wanted to get caught?"

"Of course! If we never got caught, the teachers would just try harder to catch us. The real trick," Sirius explained, "was to make sure they caught us only when we wanted them to. That way, when it was important, we could pull off some amazing pranks, and they couldn't do anything to stop it.

"Besides," he added with a grin, "the reputation for being pranksters was well worth the detentions. The cloak was great fun during the summers as well. I can't tell you how many times James and I snuck into some Muggle houses and pretended to be ghosts or re-arranged things."

"I can't believe I never thought of that!" Harry said with a laugh, thinking of what the Dursleys reaction to that would have been.

"Don't worry, Harry, we'll have years of pranks ahead of us," Sirius grinned. "Oh, and we'll get those Dursleys too! James would be affronted if we didn't. 'It's a moral imperative!' he'd say. We can make up some potions for them, as well. There are some great ones to use on Muggles."

"Potions?" asked Harry.

"Potions are an integral part of pranks, magical or Muggle. Pouring a little potion into the food and drink at a Muggle restaurant was always a blast. Of course, pouring a weak truth serum into a guy's drink when he was on a date had great results too!

"Oh, the girls we got from that little trick!" Sirius said grinning like a cat. "Doing it on the right guy would cause the girl to flee in tears in minutes. Then we'd play the sensitive but funny and charming guy to perfection, and not only would we get the girl but also a good rep for being so nice and sweet!"

Harry spent the rest of the day walking around the lands while Sirius told stories of the mischief he and his father gotten into. Harry couldn't believe some of the things his they had done during the summers by using the Invisibility Cloak. They even managed to pull off pranks in the middle of Diagon Alley without being caught!

--

Long before Harry would have liked, evening arrived, and Ollivander with it. Harry found himself seated in the kitchen as Ollivander began to explain where exactly they were and why he was helping Harry and Sirius. It had been nearly morning by the time Ollivander Teleported them here last night, and explanations had to be put off till now.

"Actually, sir," he said, interrupting Mr. Ollivander. "I should probably explain this. There are a few things I didn't want to mention at first, but I think I probably should now."

Harry began his story in full this time. He left nothing out as he told them about his headaches, getting sick, asking Ollivander for help, and his acceptance.

Harry could tell that Sirius was incredibly surprised, and quite worried, about almost everything he heard. But it was Ollivander's reaction that puzzled him. Ollivander didn't seem surprised at all and was only interested in the exact details of what his memories entailed.

Harry found he couldn't remember enough details to satisfy Ollivander and Sirius and ended up putting as many memories as he could into the Pensieve. He had no desire to watch them again though, as once was once too often for his liking. So while Sirius and Ollivander viewed the memories, Harry took a look around the house. When he was in the house for the Ritual he hadn't had time to look around, and last night, it had been so late he did nothing but go to sleep.

All the rooms opened onto the large courtyard in the middle and each also connected to each other through an open doorway on the inside walls. The bedroom he was staying in had magical murals on the back wall. They were smaller than the large mural on the wall of the courtyard and showed what looked like a picture of each generation of Ollivander's which lived in the room.

To Harry, it was truly amazing. He spent a good bit of time just looking at each person and imagining who they were, what their lives must have been like, and what they must have dreamed in the very bed he would sleep in.

The study had probably been another bedroom at one time, as it also had a wall dedicated to the magical murals. Besides the mural, it was full of interesting items, many the likes of which Harry had never seen before.

One in particular was a disturbing statue taller than he was. The statue, an injured monster, for that was the only way he could describe it, was taller and broader than a human, with a thick dark grey hide, long muscular arms, and a large black head that, Harry thought, almost looked like a bull's head.

It was so finely detailed that it, and its many injuries, almost looked lifelike. Intrigued, Harry examined it closer and found that there were words engraved into the stone, some written in Greek and others in some claw mark text that he had never seen before.

He ran his hand softly over the stone, barely touching the first engraving when he was immediately engulfed by a vision.

--

Looking around in confusion at the tall oaks trees and the blistering heat of the mid-day sun, Harry wondered where in the world he was and what he had gotten himself into. Those thoughts, however, were knocked from him as he saw the monster from the study chasing after a small group of people who were fleeing away from the edge of the trees.

Harry watched helplessly as the creature stopped for several seconds to tear apart a young man who fell with its stubby, claw-tipped, fingers before continuing to chase down the rest of the group.

He tried to close his eyes as the creature caught up to the next person, a girl younger than even Harry, but found that he couldn't. A silver bolt slammed into the monster, lifting it off the ground and knocking it back several meters. The monster's roar of pain and furry caused a shiver of fear to run through his non-existent body.

Looking back the way the bolt came from elation flooded through his body as he saw an old man standing on what looked like a flying carpet. The little girl was saved!

The old man, who seemed almost familiar to Harry, chanted a few words and pointed a small orb towards the creature. Another silver bolt flew towards it but before it could hit, the creature let loose a series of short barks and a shield appeared, protecting it. Harry watched stupefied for a moment. He couldn't believe it, but that thing could do magic!

The rest of the fight shocked Harry even more; it was like nothing he had ever seen before.

The old man and the creature sent round after round of magic at each other, each time quicker than the last until they were both moving and firing spells at breakneck speeds. The old man and the carpet reacted so well together that made Harry bit jealous. He was a natural flyer and could handle a broom better than any other student, but the way the old man and the carpet reacted to each other amazed even him. It was as if they were of one mind.

The creature was impressive. Stronger and faster than a human, it was able to use magic better than any wizard Harry had ever seen before. It seemed to have its own type of magic because, while hand gestures and vocal barks seemed to be used, neither were used consistently.

Sometimes it even seemed to do magic without having cast any spell at all. No matter how impressive the creature was though, it didn't match up to the combination of magical attacks from the old man and the mobility of the flying carpet.

It was just when Harry thought the old man had won, things changed drastically.

The creature began casting one long spell, allowing itself to be hit several times in order to complete it. When the effect of the spell took place, Harry understood why. Suddenly, the wind started to blow a little fiercer, a storm's wind. Soon a raging storm grew around the creature, pelting the old man with fierce gusts and hail. Though the old man still attacked, Harry could tell it was taking a fierce toll on him.

A great bolt of lightning lit the dark landscape, briefly outlining the trees in harsh, brilliant light. The dazzling afterimages, black and white reversed, confused his senses while the enormous thunder that sounded overhead hit him like a physical blow. When his senses returned, Harry saw the old man had been knocked off his carpet from the blast and was now forced to defend himself against a barrage of spells.

Even when defending himself against a non-stop bombardment of magic, Harry was amazed by how the old man continued to find ways to attack the creature.

Both fighters were severely injured, having been hit by the bits of magic they hadn't fully deflected of avoided, and they were visibly showing their fatigue. They seemed to know that the battle was coming to the end and put everything they had left into one last stand.

The resulting attacks were, if possible, even faster and more furious than any before. Streaks of lights of all colors and sizes were flying at such speeds between the two that the very air seemed alive with power. Some of the effects were quite visible, large flames encasing the creature, stone forming surrounding the old man, but they were countered so quickly that Harry couldn't begin to guess at what most of the magic did.

After a few minutes of constant attacks, the monster aimed several spells at the ground surrounding the old man causing the ground to literally explode outward, launching the old man into the air.

The creature stalked towards the old man, wanting to make the final kill up-close. Harry was terrified as the monster stalked towards the old man, raising its claw tipped hand for the final blow when all of a sudden the man wheezed out one last incantation. The gem, which was laying on the ground in front of the old man, exploded, engulfing the creature in a silver light and freezing it where it stood, like a statue.

The vision ended, and Harry found himself kneeling on the floor of Ollivander's study. He glanced at the creature for a moment before quickly backing away, not wanting to be anywhere near that thing again. He now understood just why the creature looked so real. It _was_.

Harry was resting in the courtyard, the cool night air comforting him from the horrifying vision, when Ollivander's approach startled him.

"Where's Sirius?" Harry asked, having been hoping to talk some more with him tonight.

"Outside walking," replied Ollivander. "He was worried a great deal about how you seem to be at the center of the events to come and needed to think on things."

Harry rose, intending find his godfather, only to be stopped by Ollivander. "It may be difficult for him at first, but seeing those visions was actually one the best things that could have happened for him."

"The best thing?" Harry asked. "How on Earth could watching all those people die be the best thing for him?"

"It gives him a purpose, a reason to keep going, to get better," Ollivander told him. "The worst thing for a person in Sirius' condition is to hide away and do nothing. He survived last year, which is impressive, yes, but he had revenge to focus and sustain him. Without such a strong purpose, I doubt he would live another year.

"Mr. Black was an Auror during the last years of the War and saw many bodies in that time. This, he is trained for, and that training will also assist him through his other problems."

"He was an Auror?" asked Harry.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, yes indeed. Sirius Black and your father were making quite the names for themselves as up-and-coming Aurors with their non-stop competitions regarding how many Death Eaters they could defeat each month and by what means. Your father once won one of those competitions by defeating two Death Eaters using only tickling and coughing jinxes."

Ollivander laughed softly for a moment, "_The Daily Prophet_ could not decide if he deserved a medal or to be locked up due to insanity."

--

"You have eaten breakfast?" asked Ollivander as Harry made his way outside.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. While he was used to waking up a couple hours before sunrise, it still took his mind a bit to begin working.

"Very good. Let us begin your lessons to feel magic," Ollivander said while leading Harry to an open patch of grass. With a quick swish of his wand, Ollivander conjured a ring of small, flickering, orbs, which slowly drifted in the air above their heads, for light.

"It will take some time for you to learn to feel, and differentiate, magic properly. Your first exercise is to cast the levitation spell as often as you can while paying no attention to the spell itself. Continue this until I return during lunch. Mr. Black expressed an interest in having more time to speak with you, as well as teaching you from an Auror's perspective."

"Is he up yet?" asked Harry curiously, having not seen Sirius since before he went into the Pensieve yesterday evening.

"I have placed Mr. Black in an enchanted sleep, in which he will remain until lunch."

"You did what?" Harry nearly shouted.

"I have placed Mr. Black into a magical trance where he may explore his mind and begin sifting through his memories. Remember, Mr. Potter, the physical harm caused by Azkaban may have healed, but the mental and emotional trauma he endured will take far longer. He, of course, did not wish to accept my help at first. Though once I mentioned you, he became far more receptive to the idea."

"Me?"

"I merely asked Mr. Black if he wished for you to be stuck with your relatives once more. For, if he did not accept my help, the only way you would be able to visit your godfather would be in St. Mungo's mental ward."

"But… You can help him. He'll be okay, right?" Harry asked, his voice dropping to nearly a whisper at the thought of loosing Sirius.

"Yes, Mr. Potter. Do not worry over such things. Sirius Black will be quite fine eventually, though he will never be the man he once was. It is impossible to go back after having experienced all he has, just as you can no longer return to how you once were after having experienced all you have this summer."

"The lights will continue to circle you until the sun rises enough to provide adequate lighting, so feel free to move about as you wish. It does not matter how perfect your wand movements are or how powerful the spell is. All that matters is that you continue to cast the spell while paying as little attention to it as possible."

Unfortunately, this proved to be a lot more difficult than it sounded as the harder he tried not to think about the spell, the more he thought about it. Finally though, after several hours of frustration, he managed it. Funnily enough, it was his not succeeding that helped him in the end.

In a bout of anger, Harry's thoughts veered from the spell to all the terrible things he'd like to do to Ollivander for never telling him how to actually complete any of the lessons. It was only after about fifteen minutes of his mental ranting that Harry realized he had done it; not once during his mental rant had he thought of the spell!

While he cursed Ollivander's name for not explaining how to do his tasks, Harry had to admit, it worked. By the time lunch came around, he was able to cast the spell and keep his mind occupied on other thoughts quite easily. Most of the time these thoughts were about how Sirius, his time with Katie, and his best friends, Ron and Hermione.

--

Sirius had different thoughts on his training though. It's not that he was against Ollivander's way of teaching, but to Sirius the more spells you knew, even half-way decently, the better prepared you were for future situations.

The first thing he did was teach the six main rules to combat.

1. There is no such thing as a fair fight. War isn't a duel; it's killing! So don't think about chivalry or about being "fair." Use any and every advantage you can find to take down your opponent, for they will not hesitate to kill you.

2. Be prepared for anything. The only thing you can count on is that your enemy will come up with something you didn't count on.

3. Always have a back way out of a fight. Never go into an alley or building without knowing another way out. At the very least, make sure it's not under anti-Apparation and port-key wards. If your enemy enters one, _stop_ and check before you walk into a trap.

4. Never concentrate only on the opponent your fighting; there are other things going on around you. Know what, and more importantly, who, they are. What you don't know _can_ kill you.

5. Have the upper hand before you go into a fight. This means using things like surprise, better intelligence, better training, and better armor, but also better numbers. One to one odds are _never_ a sure thing — and seldom two to one.

And, finally, 6. The situation makes the rules. All previous rules can become meaningless within a second, so you'd best be able to figure a way out on your own.

After that, Sirius spent the next few hours sparing with Harry, showing him how to cast the spells a little faster, improving his stance and generally giving him advice. One of the more interesting tips Sirius gave him was not to wait and see if his current spell hit before casting the next spell.

Another interesting difference with Sirius' training was his preference for speed. "There are times," he told Harry, "when casting a spell faster than your enemy is more important than casting the spell perfectly."

With that in mind, Sirius showed him how it was possible to combine wand movements together. Allowing the end of one spell to flow into the beginning of the next spell: "Every moment your opponent is busy defending himself is another moment he's not attacking you. That gives you time to come up with a better plan to defeat him."

It was a difficult lesson for Harry, since his professors taught him to cast one spell at a time. He definitely wasn't comfortable with it, but in the end, he managed it a few times.

They spent the rest of the evening going through and picking out a few spells to learn from the books Harry had picked up in Diagon Alley.

Over the next few days, Harry continued to spend from lunch until dinnertime with Sirius. It'd switch between practicing magic and having fake duels to talking about their adventures and pranks at Hogwarts. Harry loved learning more about his Godfather and his parents, and he eagerly absorbed every word.

When it came to his training, Harry was truly amazed by Sirius. The man who'd just been laughing at a prank pulled on his mother, or perhaps sneaking out of Hogwarts to prank a shop owner, was instantly replaced with a serious and self-confident Auror. The moment they took a break from training though, Sirius was back to being the laid-back prankster he normally was.

Harry decided to ask him about it.

"As an Auror, you have to learn to look at things differently," Sirius answered. "After a while, you just look at the world differently than other people, not necessarily better or worse, just different."

"I think I understand," Harry said after a moment.

"Really?" Sirius asked doubtfully.

"Well, sort of. One of the first things Ollivander had me work on this summer was to pay more attention to the people I talk to. Not just what they said, but the words they choose, how they speak, their body language, everything. It was kind of difficult for the first couple weeks, but then it became easier and easier."

After a moment Harry added, "It's not just with people I'm talking to anymore though. I've sort of started picking up on things about people even when I'm not trying, even about people I'm not really paying attention to. I don't know it's almost like…"

"You're seeing things out of the corner of your eye," Sirius finished for him. "You'll be talking to someone, or maybe reading, and then you'll just notice something about the person. Sometimes you might not even realize what it was that attracted your attention until afterwards."

"That's it exactly!" Harry exclaimed, amazed Sirius understood.

"You're increasing your awareness. It'll continue to happen more and more often until it gets to the point where you'll notice what people are doing around you without breaking your concentration.

"Try using it with more than just people though," he said. "Like your surroundings. At first just try and notice something simple like the colors of the walls and floors. Eventually though, you'll want to be able to just glance at a room and remember enough detail to navigate your way through it with your eyes closed. What you'll eventually learn though, is much more than just that. That just changes what you notice; being an Auror changes your entire outlook.

"For me, it was not to worry about things you can't fix. When it comes time to act, act. After the job is done, forget it and enjoy your life the best you can. One of the hardest things for me to learn was that you can't always make a difference."

Sirius paused a moment, trying to put it in a way Harry would understand. "There are times when we'll have intelligence about an upcoming attack but wouldn't be able to do anything about it. In those cases, you just have to let it go; you can't let it keep affecting you."

"Do you mean you're just supposed to let people die and do nothing?" Harry asked incredulously.

"In a word, yes. Sometimes we won't be the right people for the job, and it'll go to someone else. Other times it may be that it's best to do nothing. Many times it's not our call, which can be a blessing and a curse."

"But…"

"The first thing we're trained to do," Sirius continued, not letting Harry interrupt, "is to specifically define what the problem actually is. This is not nearly as simple as you might think.

"Aurors deal with a lot more than just Death Eaters, but I'll use them as an example for now. Let's say we learn that Death Eaters from a particular African nation are becoming more active and stock-piling supplies for possible attacks in the area. Our interest is that many of our potions ingredients come from areas in Africa.

"Is the problem that the Death Eaters can potentially interrupt our supply of potion ingredients? Is it that the Death Eaters _intend_ to interrupt our ability to make potions? What if the problem is that the ingredients we need from the area might not make it to England? Or that the Death Eaters in Africa have decided to demonstrate that they can threaten British interests? Only after we specifically define what the problem is can we decide how we respond, what our response is, and who makes up the response team."

"Suppose the problem is that the Death Eaters intend to destroy the companies that are selling the ingredients to England. Then the specific problem might be that the supplies that these Death Eaters have stock-piled now make them a threat to the companies from which we buy our ingredients. The solution could be to destroy all the various magical items before the Death Eaters can use them. The appropriate team would start planning a direct action mission and would normally be en route within 24 hours."

"But what if the problem was that the Dark Lord intends to hinder our ability to make potions? Then the specific problem could be that ingredients will not arrive in England on time, resulting in shortages of key ingredients to, say, healing potions. In that case, the solution would be to ensure additional methods to meet our demands."

"Aurors couldn't help ensure that domestic production or shipments from foreign suppliers increased to make up the difference, so we'd have no involvement in the situation. While we could prevent that one specific attack, they'd just attack another location, which might result in shortages we didn't plan on. So the Aurors would do nothing and move on to the next issue at hand."

"Or perhaps the real problem is that the local African government in that area is too sympathetic with the Death Eaters, allowing them to feel secure and confident enough to threaten British interests. Then the specific problem could be that they feel they are immune to British reprisals. In which case, the solution would be to demonstrate to the Death Eaters, and the local government, that threatening British interests has _severe_ consequences."

"You'd attack another government!" Harry exclaimed, slightly disturbed by everything he heard, but at the same time fascinated by it.

"Death Eaters aren't our only concern. Our enemy is anyone who threatens British interests. It could be Death Eaters, a new Dark Lord, another government, or even a legitimate businessman."

After that Harry went to back to his lessons, for once not trying to get more stories out of Sirius.

--

The second morning, Ollivander gave Harry an enchanted ring that slowly dampened his normal senses. It helped to clear his mind of the day-to-day minutia and differentiate his magic from the natural magic all around him. He didn't realize the changes at first, but by the end of the second day, Harry began to understand that he didn't have to concentrate on anything specific at all. By embracing the monotony of it all, his body continued the simple task and allowed his mind to be free, wandering from memory to memory at its leisure.

Sometimes an hour or two could go by and Harry would barely notice; other times, images would dance across his mind. Memories of his friends, Quidditch, and Hogwarts came first, but there were others too.

Some of the memories seemed almost familiar, but they somehow still eluded his understanding. Glimpses of cliffs, crashing waves on weathered rocks, fighting, snow, and then death. A great hall filled with people. An impossibly high tower dwarfing a castle. A room with no doors or windows. A strange-looking glowing white substance lining the ground and walls. Magic.

Each would pass with blinding quickness, leaving only an afterimage in its passing.

On the fourth day of practicing, Harry was jerked awake when he felt a spell coming towards him, and his reactions took over before he realized what was happening.

Hearing clapping, he looked up and saw it was Ollivander and Sirius who attacked him!

"Excellent Mr. Potter!" Ollivander told him. "You may take the shield down now."

Harry looked at the shield charm protecting him and blinked. He could barely remember having time to think let alone cast a spell, but there it was shimmering in front of him.

"What... Why did you attack me?" Harry asked as he took down the shielding charm.

"I did not attack you, Mr. Potter. It was merely a test to determine the progress of your training."

"By attacking me!" Harry stated angrily.

"I assure you, Mr. Potter, if that had been a real attack, you would not be standing. Your reflexes are impressive and your ability to differentiate the magic around you has improved, if only at the unconscious level, but you still have much to learn before you could withstand a true attack.

"Now then, to the reason why I disturbed your training. It seems your young lady friend will become a Prefect this coming year, and her mother wishes for you to attend a dinner in her honor this Friday night. I assume you wish to go?"

"Young lady friend?" Sirius asked with an evil grin. "Oh, this you must tell."


	9. Chapter 9

"What was it like, becoming an Auror

Harry was a little nervous about seeing Katie again after their kiss, and even more so since Sirius' talk, but he still thought it'd be fairly easy. After all, he'd known her for nearly four years, ate quite a few team meals with her, and had already met her family.

The entire evening started on a rather bad note when he arrived at Katie's and found they were going to a fancy Muggle restaurant, not a wizarding one. This was a bit of problem since he'd worn the formal dress robes he'd bought for school earlier that summer, not Muggle clothes. Thankfully, Katie was still getting ready, and he quickly Floo'd to Diagon Alley. After twenty minutes and a conversation with a woman from the nearest Muggle clothing store he could find, he Floo'd back to Katie's wearing a nice Muggle outfit that was only slightly too tight for his comfort.

Harry knew Katie was a girl, if nothing else their first study session earlier this summer convinced him of that. He'd seen her in dresses before too, but nothing had prepared him for this. He was stunned at the sight of her and took the time to look, really look, at her. She was pretty in an athletic sort of way. Her dark blond hair was streaked light by the sun, and her skin was tan. Katie wore a short black dress that showed off her toned body perfectly. He couldn't decided what he wanted to look at more; her long athletic legs that seemed to be begging for attention in the black high-heeled sandals she wore, or her neck and shoulders, which were bare save for a silver necklace and a few wisps of her dark golden hair. That she wore her hair up, and not in a loose pony-tail like normal, only added to the effect by accentuating her neck and shoulders.

She was attractive, there was little doubt about that, but he knew there were quite a few girls in Hogwarts who were stunning in comparison. Her smile, on the other hand, took his breath away. She was smiling at him, he knew it. It wasn't a smile of being in a good mood; it was a smile for him, of being happy to see him. It made him want to smile back. A true — genuine — smile.

It's was only Mr. Bell's slight cough that brought Harry out of his stupor. Blushing, he managed to tell both Katie and Mrs. Bell they looked wonderful, and he thanked them for inviting him. He'd have to thank Sirius for the advice on complementing Mrs. Bell; her smile grew and seemed friendlier almost immediately.

Harry was used to being able to talk to Katie like he could with Hermione, but her new look was throwing him completely off balance. Next to how she was now, he felt like he normally did with the Dursley's — a freak that didn't deserve happiness.

It was when they were waiting to be seated at the club that the real problem began. Apparently Mr. Bell was well known at the country club and ran into a family friend who had moved away a couple years back. Since they hadn't seen each other in so long, and the friend would be leaving the country next week, Mr. Bell invited the man and his family to join them for dinner. At first Harry thought this was quite nice of Mr. Bell, as it was something the Dursley's would never consider doing. His opinion changed rather quickly though.

Stephan, their 17-year-old son, was handsome, tall, and he seemed to mix Oliver Wood's body with Malfoy's arrogance. Harry could tell right away he wouldn't like him, and he was proven correct when, only a few minutes after being introduced, Stephan began flirting with Katie. Harry tried to stay involved in their conversation at first, but he found himself constantly being dragged into a mostly one-sided conversation by the eldest brother, Michael.

Unfortunately, things only became worse when they got to their table and Stephen pulled out the seat for Katie, leaving Harry to sit across from Katie and next to her little sister. While he liked Alexia and, under normal circumstances, would have enjoyed talking with her, he couldn't stand the sight of Katie and Stephen together. Watching her laugh at something Stephen said caused his emotions to run wild.

He didn't know exactly what he was feeling and didn't really care. Everything else in the world disappeared; all he could think of was Katie laughing with Stephen. The pain welled up inside him and was threatening to spill over. Nearly gasping for breath, he excused himself and fled for the bathroom.

Harry groaned as the cool water splashed onto his face as he tried to calm himself, to get his act together. His face was flushed, his heart pounded in his chest, and he felt like he could barely breathe. There were so many thoughts and emotions whirling through his mind that he couldn't think straight, could barely think at all.

"Harry?"

"Katie!" exclaimed Harry, as he turned around to face her. "This is the Men's bathroom!"

"You left so quickly, and I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Oh, so now you decide to care," Harry shot back at her, the confusion of his own emotions settling on anger at such a convenient target.

"What?" Katie asked, reflexively backing up a step. "What did you mean by that? Of course I care!" she told him, all the while trying to figure out what was happening and why Harry, of all people, was snapping at her.

"Hard to notice when you've barely taken your eyes off Stephan the entire night!"

"You're jealous!"

_Jealousy?_ Was that what this was? He didn't know for sure.

Softly Katie told him after a moment, "I'm sorry if I appeared to be ignoring you. I didn't mean to, Harry. It's just that I spent hours getting ready for this, and you've barely talked to me all night. I haven't seen Stephan in a couple years. When he started flirting, it surprised me; but it felt nice that he even noticed me. I guess I just got caught up in the excitement."

Harry wasn't sure what to say to that. He barely even knew what to think of it. He had been ignoring her, but couldn't she tell the affect her new look had on him?

"Were you really jealous, Harry?" Katie asked coyly, a smile appearing on her face at the thought of him liking her enough that he'd be jealous.

"You don't have to be you know," she whispered to him as stepped closer to him. "I didn't say anything, but I was _really_ happy when Mom told me you'd be coming tonight."

Harry gasped, his entire body frozen as she pressed herself flush against him, her hands winding around his neck.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about that kiss," she whispered as she closed her eyes.

Her lips pressed softly against his, released, and then softly pressed against his again. Harry opened his mouth and their teeth clanked, causing a moan to escape her lips.

The door opened abruptly, and they jumped apart quickly, leaving Harry a wreck of emotions. Desiring more, mortified at thought of being caught, and confused by his emotional turmoil earlier.

An older man with balding grey hair stood at the doorway, his eyes wide and mouth open, gaping at the two teenagers.

They left quickly and made their way back to the table and tried, though rather unsuccessfully, to keep themselves from laughing at the look on the old man's face.

Thankfully, the rest of the dinner went well for Harry. Katie still talked to Stephan, but she made more of an effort to talk directly to him as well. Talking with Alexia actually turned out to be quite a bit of fun. Harry never had much of a chance to talk with other kids when he was younger and wasn't sure what to talk to her about, so he talked with her like he would any of his other friends. The younger girl really seemed to enjoy this, if the smile on her face and more exuberant attitude was anything to go by.

--

Alexia was happy when they finally got home. She'd been looking forward to the dinner all week, but then her dad had to go and ruin it all by inviting those … people … to eat with them. All she really wanted was to talk with her sister!

Actually, talking to Harry was nice though. He was funny and wasn't anything like what she thought he'd be. Alexia had heard of him growing up of course, and overheard a few stories of him while listening to Katie and her friends talk, but she didn't expect him to be so normal. He was nice and didn't talk to her like a little kid, as Katie's other friends often did — especially those two red-headed boys. She hated when they came over.

As nice as it was talking to Harry , he wasn't the one she wanted to talk to, and they couldn't talk about what she wanted to talk about — Hogwarts.

She loved Katie and missed her. There were plenty of times she hated her sister, mostly when Katie was hanging out with her friends and told Alexia to scram, but that didn't matter now. She'd been praying to go to Hogwarts for as long as she could remember, and her wish had finally come true. That she couldn't talk to anyone about it was driving her insane!

All she wanted was to talk to Katie and to ask her about Hogwartsand what to expect. She'd never even known she could do magic. _What if she couldn't? Would they send her home?_ This is when she needed her sister, but she'd barely been around this summer, and it felt like Katie didn't even know she existed. Didn't she know how much she needed her, how much she missed her. _Why'd she have to go?_

--

Once they were back at the Bell's house, Katie went to change into more comfortable clothes to walk back to her tent in. Harry vividly remembered how it felt like to be so unprepared and nervous about going to Hogwarts and began telling Alexia what to expect the first few days of class. When she admitted that she was afraid she'd be sent away for not being magical, he felt for her. She seemed so innocent and so scared that he couldn't help but want to help her. For the first time, he talked about what happened after he got his letters, how his family wouldn't let him read them, how he didn't even know magic existed, and how he'd been so worried that he wouldn't be good enough, or know enough, to be at Hogwarts.

Katie arrived during their conversation and took a seat next to him on the couch. She added her own stories about her fears the first few months in the castle and all the mistakes she made. They talked for a while about what she should expect and ended up promising to show Alexia around the castle until she got the hang of where everything was. Harry even promised to show her a few secret passages.

When Mrs. Bell finally told Alexia it was bedtime, Harry was quite surprised. He'd been enjoying talking with them so much that he hadn't realized how much time passed.

"Nonsense," Mrs. Bell replied when Harry tried to say goodnight. "Alexia has a much earlier bedtime than Katie. You two enjoy some time together, and I know you weren't thinking of letting Katie walk all that way to her alone."

"Of course not," Harry said, kicking himself mentally for planning to do just that. Thinking quickly, he added, "I just thought we'd start walking to her tent. With all the extra people there for the World Cup, I didn't think it'd be a good idea to be out in the woods that late. You can never be too careful."

"That was quick thinking," Katie commented after they Floo'd to the field.

"Relax," she said, noticing Harry stiffen. "It's not the first time I've seen you come up with a fib quickly. You're one of the few people in Gryffindor who can come up with excuses that work on Professor McGonagall."

"Actually, it's always amazed me how you can think on your feet so well. I freeze up anytime I'm doing even the tiniest thing, but I've seen you act perfectly natural when you've pretty much been caught red-handed. And even the twins break when dealing with Snape, but you'll have him breathing down your neck and still stand by those outrageous stories of yours."

Harry idly wondered if he should mention that those outrageous stories were true, some of the time at least. But the thought was thrown out of his head when she reached over and took his hand a moment later. Her skin felt soft against his own, and the metallic feeling of her two rings contrasted wonderfully with her warm hand.

Harry's mind was at war as they were neared Katie's tent. He knew he didn't want the night to end, but he didn't know what to do. _Should he go inside the tent with her to talk? Could he kiss her? Should he kiss her? They weren't actually dating, so should he ask her to be his girlfriend? Had this been an actual date?_

As they reached her tent, Harry threw all thoughts aside, gathered up his courage, and leaned forward, touching his lips to hers. When she didn't pull away, he deepened the kiss, relishing the feel of her mouth against his.

Her eyes widened slightly and looked right into his. He couldn't tell her what he wanted; he was never very good with putting his feelings into words, but he could show her. He could show her his desires, his feelings, and his need. He could show her everything that coursed through him when she was near.

Harry felt her exploring his mouth, and a wave of heat rushed through his body. He wanted nothing more than to hold her to him, to feel, to be lost in such wonderful feelings.

She moaned into his mouth, and he let himself go, sinking into the sensations, losing himself completely in the kiss. He barely noticed his hands moving, exploring her back, pulling her closer to him. There was nothing else except Katie, the feeling she gave him, the affection she felt for him. She pulled back gasping for air, but he kissed her again. She was awakening something in him, something primal, something powerful.

It disappeared, and Harry moaned into her mouth at its loss. He was shocked and could barely move. Separating his mouth from hers, but staying only a millimeter away, he stood there. Panting heavily to catch his breath, his mind racing trying to figure out what happened, why it stopped, why he stopped. Katie moaned softly at the loss of the kiss and moved her head to shoulder, holding on tightly to him.

Reality came crashing back to them as the sound of clapping and catcalls filtered into his thoughts. Standing less than two meters away were Alicia, Angelina, Lee, and several other students he recognized.

"Not bad, Harry," Lee commented with a grin as Katie was dragged off by Alicia and Angelina.

"Don't worry. They're just heading to the party. You'll get your chance for more fun in a minute, but first we need to grab some stuff."

"Party?" Harry managed to ask, his thoughts still swirling from Katie.

"Not much of one really," Lee told him with a shrug. "Some more students arrived when they opened up another section of the campgrounds earlier today. So we're having a bit of a get together over by their tents."

Harry helped grab the supplies and carried them over to the other side of the large grass fields. About two dozen Hogwarts students and maybe a half dozen foreign kids hung around a group of tents when they arrived with the food and drinks. The party wasn't nearly as large as some of the Gryffindor parties, especially those after a Quidditch match, but it was larger than many of spur of the moment ones.

With more than 80 kids in Gryffindor tower, it was easy to find reasons to throw a party. The End of Term and Quidditch Victory parties were easily the largest, normally involving every member of the house and lasting until the early morning hours. Officially, birthday parties were combined to one Saturday each month, but most people held a small party with close friends on their birthday. First Friday of the month, Only Saturday of the week, Last Test until the Next Test, and Thank Godric We're Not Slimy Slytherin's, were some of the more common reasons used to justify a party when the older years became bored or stressed.

Harry knew only a handful of the people there, but that didn't matter too much. He wasn't in the mood to really enjoy the party as it was. The only thing on his mind was the kiss, or more specifically, what he'd felt during the kiss. Unfortunately, Katie was clustered away with a group of girls. _What was it with girls always staying in groups?_

He grabbed a drink for himself, though he didn't plan on drinking all that much. Having been on the Quidditch team since his first year, Harry was used to being with older students and knew better than to drink much of the stuff. He grimaced, remembering the practice after his first victory in Quidditch. Everyone was so thrilled at finally beating Slytherin that the next practice was scheduled late in the evening and quickly turned into a party. Oliver acquired the drinks, and the twins brought the food. It was one of the better moments, one of the first times he felt like he truly belonged. It didn't matter that he was a first year or that he was Harry Potter. He was a member of the team, and they'd won together. And the next morning they paid the price for that celebration together.

Harry found himself talking with Lee Jordan and a few others he didn't recognize, though that didn't matter much to him. He wasn't in much of a mood for talking anyway. He carried on with the conversation without really trying, nodding and saying a few words every now and then, but mostly he thought about the kiss.

Finishing his second drink, he took another glance towards Katie. _What was he even doing here?_ He'd gone along with everyone to see more of Katie, but he hadn't even spoken a word to her yet. _Was she mad at him for kissing her? She'd enjoyed it as much as him, hadn't she? _

"Wait a minute, what are you on about?" Harry asked, the switch in conversation finally catching up to him.

"I think you need to slow down on the drinks," one of the boys said with a laugh.

"Or spend a little less time staring at your girl," Lee added with a grin, though it only lasted for a moment. "This is serious. They're canceling Quidditch!"

"The World Cup?"

"No, worse. Hogwarts! They're canceling the tournaments this year."

"What? Why?" Harry nearly shouted, gaining the attention from everyone nearby. "They can't. We finally won the cup last year! And we have a great team. No way Slytherin can beat us this year!"

"They're having some sort of tournament," one of the other boys Harry barely recognized as a Ravenclaw said. "I was visiting Mike at the Ministry last week, he's got an internship there, and it's all the talk over at the Department for International Co-operation. He didn't know the details since all the meetings were behind closed doors, but he managed to overhear a few things he shouldn't have. Hogwarts is canceling Quidditch for the year."

The shear variety of curses that followed amazed Harry. He'd never heard of half of them before, and he couldn't even recognize the language of a few.

Glancing at his watch, Harry cursed silently. Ollivander had planned to stay at his shop until Harry finished for the night, but he didn't want make the old man stay up too late. Grabbing another drink, he said goodbye to Lee before heading out.

--

"You should go after him," Lee said as he encircled Angelina within his arms.

"What?" asked Katie, blushing slightly as she forced her gaze away from Harry's retreating form.

"He's had at least three older, and rather fine looking girls hitting on him over the last hour, but he blew them off to gaze at you. You should go after him before one of the others do — if they haven't already."

"Did they really?" Alicia asked him after Katie left.

"Not really," Lee admitted. "A couple seemed interested enough, not that he noticed though. He really did spend most his time looking at Katie."

_You so owe me Harry._

--

"Wake up, Harry!" Sirius shouted as he pulled the sheets off a tired and groggy Harry.

"Eww … Maybe you should go back to sleep after all. That hair scares me!"

Harry groaned and managed to gather up enough energy to shoot a glare at Sirius.

"If you didn't want to be so tired in the morning, you shouldn't have spent half the night snogging your girlfriend," teased Sirius. "I have something to show you, so hurry up and get dressed. I'll be in the kitchen."

"What's this?" Harry asked as he walked into the kitchen a few minutes later.

"It's your birthday breakfast, of course!"

"But it's not my birthday," Harry said, slightly confused as to what was going on. He was tired from last night, but not that tired…

"I know, but I wasn't there for your birthday. So while you went out yesterday, I went and picked up a present. You don't have to do your morning practices, and I won't be filtering through my memories today either. We'll have most the day together."

Harry was stunned. Sirius went out special for a present and even made a special breakfast for him?

"The presents and cake won't be till tonight though, after Ollivander gets back."

"Cake?"

"You can't celebrate a birthday without cake!" Sirius said with a grin. "You're getting a special birthday cake made by Florean Fortescue himself."

After breakfast they spent much of the day just talking and learning more about each other. Sirius told more stories about his adventures in Hogwarts, and Harry explained a few of the things that he'd gone through so far. It was all the talk about what he went through his second year that gave Harry the opportunity to bring up something that had been in the back of his mind, nagging him, ever since.

"I think something may be wrong with me … I know I should've been scared fighting the Basilisk, and I was, in a way at least. I know I shouldn't have enjoyed it, but I did Sirius. I did."

"There were nightmares for months afterwards, even a few this year. A small part of me was terrified; but in a sick way, I've never felt better then when I was fighting. I felt like I could do anything, like I was … alive! Everything was so real. I thought faster and reacted quicker. I could hear the Basilisk slither in the darkness. Even the shadows seemed to lessen, making the world much more visible around me."

"More than that though, it felt good. Later that night when I was in the Hospital Wing, I smiled. I was happy!" Harry all but cried out. "It could talk, the Basilisk. It was alive and knew what was happening, and I killed it!"

"There's nothing wrong with you, Harry."

"I nearly died, Ginny nearly died, and I was happy Sirius. I laughed!" shouted Harry.

Sirius walked over and placed his hands on both sides of Harry's shoulder. "Listen to me, Harry. There is _nothing _wrong with you."

"The reason you felt so alive is because you knew you could die, and your body and magic reacted without you realizing it. You enhanced your abilities to give you a better chance to live. It's a defense mechanism, and it happens to everyone — not just to you."

"Really?"

"Really. It's completely normal. So is your reaction later that night."

"But."

"No buts, Harry," Sirius said firmly, cutting him off. "You were stressed and pushed your body well past its normal limits. Your emotions could have easily spiked and slumped because of it. Some people laugh, not because it's funny, but because they're alive."

"But they're dead, Sirius. Dead. And I killed them! How could I be happy about that?"

"People react different ways, Harry. Some people cry and seek comfort from others, some want to laugh and remember the good times, while others become silent and want to be by themselves. I become active. I work out, train, run, and do pretty much anything I can. Does looking to feel alive out of adventure make me a bad person? I thought it did the first time."

"It was during my fourth month of training as an Auror. I was tagging along on a routine reconnaissance mission, feeling cocky, like I was actually good enough to be there, when all hell broke loose. The routine mission turned into a fight for our lives, and I killed someone. After we finished our mission, we made it back to the Ministry, and the rest of the team carried on like normal, like it was no big deal."

"I couldn't though. The next day I trained with another group, ended up laughing and having a great time with them. That night I found an ex-girlfriend and slept with her. I continued like that, all the while disgusted at myself for acting the way I was. It disappeared after a little while though, and things went back to normal — or as normal as things could be."

"But it still there, Sirius, even now," Harry whispered. "I still feel happy that I killed them. How can I feel like that?"

"Are you sure that's why you're feeling the happiness? Because you killed them? You did the right thing, Harry. You didn't run, you didn't cower, and you didn't stop just because you were young. You did the right thing, no matter that it might have cost you your life. You made the right choice, Harry, the moral choice."

"You should be proud, not beating yourself up over it. You should be proud of your actions and proud that you saved her life! Every breath that girl takes — every laugh and every smile — is because of you. Because of you, Harry. Remember that."

"What was it like, becoming an Auror?" Harry asked, suddenly wanting to get off the topic.

Sirius sighed. He knew what the kid was doing and wanted to talk about it, to help him, but he didn't know what else to say.

"Hard. Long and hard," he answered, deciding to let the subject drop, at least for now.

"Even helping each other James and I barely made it through. Half the time we wanted to do nothing more than to walk away, but we never could. It had us before we even joined. In ways it's truly indescribable. It takes everything you ever thought about yourself, throws it out into the wind, and leaves you to pick up the pieces. If you make it to the end, you know who you truly are."

"Of course, it's getting to the end that's the hard part. The Magical Combat Training is six months long and routinely stresses its students to such a degree that there is more than an 80 drop out rate. In our year, only 8 of the 60 trainees who started finished. And that was just the beginning. Following MCT we went through two years of vigorous training, spending at least six hours every other day in practical sessions."

"Auror training wasn't all practical work, though. We also attended advanced courses in charms, transfiguration, wards, and potions. And that was along with more specialized courses like group tactics and strategies, magical and Muggle transportation, foreign language and cultures, reconnaissance, communications, and first aid and field healing."

"By the end of the program, each trainee earns his or her Mastery in Magical Combat. Since Aurors normally aren't accepted into the program until after they've been in another field for a couple years, the majority become Sorcerers before the end of training."

"Sorcerers?" asked Harry. "I thought that was just another name for a witch or wizard."

"In a way. It's the next level above being a wizard," Sirius explained. "You're an apprentice to Hogwarts now, but when you graduate you'll become a Wizard. Hogwarts is the only school in England to offer NEWT classes for your sixth and seventh year, by the way. The other British schools only teach students to their fifth year, when they take their OWL's. In those schools, each witch or wizard has to take an apprenticeship afterwards, until they're ready to take their NEWTs in the fields they chose. Apprenticeships normally last from two to five years and grants up to four NEWTs, whereas Hogwarts offers its students four or five NEWT's in two years. Either way, once you get at least two NEWTs, you're considered a wizard."

"For most people that's fine; but if you want to go further than being a wizard, the next step is to get your Mastery in a field. It's basically just like it sounds: You've become good enough to master that area of magic. There's a bit more to it than just that, though; you need to do a lot of academic work and make some sort of contribution. Most of the time it's by making a new spell, altering an existing one, or coming up with a new magical theory for that field."

"Once you earn two masteries, you're considered a Sorcerer. Its possible go further than a Sorcerer, though it becomes much harder. There are two different titles for the next level, Scholar and Master. A Scholar is someone who earns a Mastery in seven separate fields, whereas a Master makes seven significant contributions in a single field. Each has to be nominated by seven Scholars or seven Masters. And those few poor sods who become both a Scholar and a Master are called Sages."

"So, you and Dad became Sorcerers?" asked Harry, eager to draw out even a little bit more information about them.

Sirius grinned to himself, hearing the excitement in Harry's voice. He might not know what to say to make Harry feel better about himself, but at least he could do this. "No, James and I were accepted to the Auror program right from school. We earned the one Mastery in magical combat but never bothered getting a second. Things were a bit different then. The war had taken a turn for the worse, and the Aurors, along with most the ministry, were being overworked. Lily was a Sorceress though, earned her Masteries in Charms and Spell Design."

"My mum?"

"I always thought James and I were about as stubborn as they came," Sirius said with a laugh. "But Lily… When she thought she was right, she took stubbornness to a whole different level. That's actually how she ended up becoming a Sorceress really."

"She disagreed with an accepted theory in charms and had to prove it wrong. They actually ended up giving her a job as an assistant professor because she spent so much time at Hogwarts researching it. It took her nearly four years to prove her theory and then another year to convince everyone she was right, but she did it in the end." Sirius laughed a bit before adding, "The fact that she earned two Masteries and became a Sorceress was completely incidental to her stubbornness."

--

"PRESENTS!!" Sirius yelled, jumping up from the kitchen table.

Harry laughed as he finished the last of his cake. There were times when Sirius was more of a kid than he was.

"Come on, Harry, open mine up!"

Harry opened the large box, his heart pounding in anticipation, but he was confused when he peered in. Instead of one large item like he expected, the box was filled with at least a dozen items. Books, parchment, pamphlets, and a few other items he wasn't sure of.

"The Quidditch books and game pamphlets were James'," Sirius said, his voice tight. "They're signed, all of them. Mostly just one or two of the players, but twice he managed to get the entire team, even the managers."

"All the notebooks belonged to Lilly. I'm not sure what all is in them, probably class notes and research, but I thought you'd like to at least see them. She used a Quill and Parchment for anything official, but she used a Muggle pen and notebook for her own notes, said it was faster and more efficient."

"The tome is something special. It holds the details for all the major pranks we played. It's spelled up to read like a normal text on wards unless you say the password. Then it'll change to the real plans."

"The pocket watch was made by your great-grandfather, Edward. Story is he went a bit stir crazy after retiring and ended up making all sorts of bizarre items. He specialized in clocks though, not a single of which ever told time. I'm not sure what all that one does, but it seems to tell you about your surroundings, what's around you, the temperature, if it's going to rain, things like that. It even told me exactly how far below ground I was when I grabbed it from the vault."

Harry look at the watch a moment before spotting a picture under it that looked familiar. He'd seen them before.

"The picture is of your grandparents, Elise and Mason, and your granduncle, Henry. A wonderful woman Elise was, as sweet as they come and loved to spoiled us rotten. Mason was a great guy too, a powerful man. You didn't break his rules, at least not while he was around," Sirius said with a grin. "I didn't know Henry that well. He moved to be with his new wife during our second year. James really looked up to him though."

Harry stared at it as Sirius began talking again.

"There are a few other pictures in there, also some miscellaneous books and items from your family. I don't know the stories on all of them though."

"Sirius … I …" Harry said, his voice clouded by emotion.

"You're welcome, Harry," Sirius replied as he moved closer to give him a hug. "Happy Birthday."

"How, where did you find them?"

"James' vault," Sirius answered. "Most of the family heirlooms are in the manor or the family vaults, but James had a few things stored in his. He considered me his brother in all but blood and made sure I could access his personal vault when he opened it after fifth year."

"But how did you get to Gringotts? They could've arrested you!"

"I was fine, Harry. Really, there's no reason to worry. Ollivander disguised me so I could get through Diagon Alley. But once I was in Gringotts, I spoke to the manager and proved who I was. Everything was fine. Gringotts is actually located in the Goblin Nation. The entrance way in Diagon Alley is just a magical portal that takes you there. The Goblins aren't bound by the laws of Britain or any other nation; the Goblin's have full autonomy there. It's part of the peace treaty after the last Goblin rebellion. That's how Gringotts became the most popular and successful bank in the world. No government has any sway with them, and that's a big deal to a lot of the old families that lie about their financial situation in order to pay fewer taxes."

"So once you're in Gringotts, you're free?"

"Well, I still have to be disguised. If any of the other customers found out, they'd have the Ministry waiting for me leave the building, but the Goblins and all the employees won't say a thing — to the Ministry at least. I'm sure the Goblins reported it to it to their superiors."

"I have a gift for you as well, Mr. Potter," Ollivander said as he walked over carrying a thin box.

Peering in the box Harry saw, well he didn't know what it was exactly. It almost looked like a Quidditch armguard. But instead of leather, it was made of golden hair intertwined with pieces of deep black glass.

"A wand holster Mr. Potter," stated Ollivander, obviously understanding Harry's confusion.

"Oh, wow! I've seen a couple in your shop, but never anything like this."

"I would be shocked if you had. I enchanted it for myself many years ago. Chimaera mane and Obsidian, a testament of a misspent youth. I don't think anyone will try to remove your wand without your permission, at least not twice."

"Chimaera mane?" asked Sirius.

"Indeed, Mr. Black, a very difficult fight that was."

Harry gasped. "You killed a Chimaera?"

"Not by myself, Mr. Potter. Seventeen of us were there that day, and it still nearly ended in defeat, which of course only added to the thrill of victory. That was a very long time ago, mind you."

"I have always been somewhat of a malcontent," Ollivander added with a devilish grin, "wanting to beat my own trail even when I knew someone else's would lead to the same place. There are times when it doesn't feel right to take the easy way."

"I have a present for you as well, Mr. Black," the wand-crafter said. "While it has taken longer than I would have liked due to the need for secrecy, I have arranged for a professional to assist in your recovery."

"Help?" asked Harry before Sirius could finish thanking him. "I thought all those trances in the morning were helping him?"

"The trance allows Mr. Black to navigate through his memories without the interference of the outside world, and while necessary, it is but one of many steps that must be taken. For such a complex situation, a professional Healer with experience in psychological traumais required."

--

The rest of the week was a bit different for Harry. The healer used The World Cup as an excuse for her change in schedule and started treatment immediately. As Sirius was gone all day, Harry found himself spending most his time in Ollivander's shop again.

When Ollivander helped him earlier in the summer, he was never involved in anything to do with the shop. The moment a person came into the shop he had been expected to go to the backroom. Harry completely understood this, and it never bothered him, but that wasn't how things were this time. Ollivander seemed to go out of his way to introduce Harry to any friend or business acquaintance that entered the store.

Harry was knocked out of his thoughts by someone calling him. Looking around, he saw Mrs. Bell walking towards him along with two other women.

"Hello, Mrs. Bell," said Harry as he took her hand in greeting.

"It's nice to see you again dear," Mrs. Bell said and introduced him to Alicia and Angelina's mothers, Bianca Spinnet and Illaria Johnson.

"It seems the girls are a bit tired of living in a tent by themselves, though personally I think they're just tired of cooking for themselves. I know the last dinner didn't go exactly as planned, but we'll be having one tomorrow night, and you're welcome to come. I'm sure Katie would love to see you again."

"Oh," Harry said, a bit of disappointment leaking into his voice. "I'd really like to, but I can't. I'm going to spend the last two weeks with my best friend's family, and I'm leaving tomorrow morning. His father managed to get tickets at the last minute and sent me a letter yesterday inviting me along."

"And you were planning to leave without saying goodbye to Katie?" asked Mrs. Bell. "That's very foolish dear. Are you still spending the day with Ollivander?"

"Err … Yes, ma'am. I was just getting a bit of lunch," Harry said, a bit confused by why going to the Weasley's was foolish.

"Very well. Now go tell Ollivander that you'll be spending day with Katie. Then head over to their camp site and explain how you won't be able to see her again till the first. As you mentioned before, the forest can be a bit dangerous at night, so I expect you to see her safely back tonight."

"But …"

"Now run along, dear. Katie will want to spend time with you before you leave."

Harry went back to Ollivander's, a smile forming on his face. This wasn't exactly how he planned on spending the day, but after the goodbye he received after the party last time, he was looking forward to seeing her again.

--

"You do realize you not only ordered that young man to spend the entire day alone with your daughter but also to see her back to her tent late tonight. Which, I might add, is unsupervised?" asked Mrs. Johnson, though her tone suggested it was more of a statement than question.

"I've been helping them get together since the beginning of summer, not that it required all that much help. They both showed interest in each other, but he's still very much a boy, and Katie still very much a young girl. They needed a bit of guidance and opportunity to get together."

"You've been trying to get them together?" asked Mrs. Spinnet incredulously. "But you've always babied Katie, and you never seemed to care about name and wealth before. Aren't you still worried about her having a boyfriend?"

"Of course I worry, that's why I've been helping them along all summer. I'm a little surprised Katie hasn't had a boyfriend before now. But she'll be going to the Yule Ball with someone, and I'm terrified she might go with those … twins. You two can't honestly tell me the thought of your girls dating them hasn't giving you nightmares."

"It's kept me up at night alright," answered Mrs. Johnson. "I barely slept for three straight nights when Angelina mentioned having a boyfriend in one of her letters. I didn't know much about that Lee boy then, but when she answered back saying it was him, I swear I could've kissed him. I'm actually glad those twins spend so much time on pranks. It's kept their interest off our girls."

"I can see why you worry," Mrs. Spinnet admitted. "I'll never think what happened to my Alicia as a good thing, but at least she knows better than to go out with boys like them now. Are you sure you're not replacing them with someone worse? I've heard a few rumors about him."

"I've heard them, too," admitted Mrs. Bell. "But I've talked to Katie about him several times, and she's always said good things about him. I've talked to him myself a few times and to a few of the adults that know him around here as well. Everything points to him being a well-mannered teenage boy who's very sweet and incredibly loyal. He went out to dinner with us last week and seemed a bit shy and unsure of himself at first, but he was very attentive and rather charming once he got past his nervousness. Nothing at all that makes me worry. If anything, I have a feeling it'll be Katie who corrupts him."

"I'll talk to Alicia for you then," Mrs. Spinnet said. "She loves Katie's innocent outlook on life. Maybe she can look out for them while they're at school. She'd help Katie anyway, but if she understands keeping them together will also keep her away from some of the other boys ... I'm sure she'll do what she can."

"I'll mention it to Angelina, as well. The two of them should be able to help Katie and Harry through any silly fights they might have."  
--


	10. Chapter 10

Harry spun faster and faster, elbows tucked tightly to his sides, blurred fireplaces flashing past him, until he started to feel sick and closed his eyes. Then, when at last he felt himself slowing down, he threw out his hands and came to a halt in time to prevent himself from falling face forward out of the Weasley's kitchen fire.

Harry glanced around and saw that everyone was looking at him. Most the Weasleys were standing around the room. Harry noticed that Hermione was there with her parents and a girl he didn't know, but he guessed she was Hermione's older sister, Cassandra.

"Uh, hello everyone."

"Oh, Harry, it's so good to see you!" Harry heard through her mass of brown hair as she pulled him into a suffocating hug. "Did you finish all your homework? I'll have to look it over for you. How was your summer? You grew! When did you get new clothes? What happened? Oh, I had such a great time. You really should see the Mediterranean!"

She stopped her questions as Harry began laughing. He couldn't help himself. After everything that had happened this summer, after all the memories, and all the changes, he felt incredible relieved that Hermione was still the same he remembered.

"Come on, Hermione," said Ron. "Let him breathe!"

"Mate!" Harry exclaimed, surprised once again at how happy he was to see him. They exchanged a short, and slightly awkward, one-armed hug.

"Glad you're back!" Ron said, grinning slightly. "Can you believe it? We're going to the World Cup!"

"I know! You should see the field mate. It's huge! And it's packed with foreigners from around the world. Everywhere you look there's nothing put people! Diagon Alley is packed, too. It's amazing, really. Did you hear both teams will be using Firebolts? Oh, and Wood got reserve for Puddlemere!" Harry said, his interest in Quidditch overcoming him.

"Move aside, Ronald, you can talk Quidditch later," Mrs. Weasley said as she engulfed Harry in one of her infamous hugs, nearly crushing the life out of him. "Harry, dear, now don't you look great."

"Thank you, ma'am. Not having glasses makes such a difference," said Harry as his cheeks flushed. Mrs. Weasley always made him feel self-conscious, as he wasn't used to the affection.

"You're not wearing glasses! I didn't even notice. What happened to them? Can you see all right? I'm sure we can get you another set. Diagon Alley has a store, and so does the village market down the road." Harry tried to tell her that he didn't need them anymore; but Mrs. Weasley was in mothering mode, and he couldn't get a word in.

Finally, Mrs. Weasley needed to stop to get a breath. Harry cried out, "Wait!" hoping to stop her before she could continue. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley, but I actually don't need glasses anymore. When I was in St. Mungo's, the healer went ahead and fixed them as well."

"Oh, that's great, dear. Without your glasses your eyes look so much ..." She stopped for a moment when she realized what he had said. "St. Mungo's? Healers? Are you alright? What happened? You need to get off your feet, dear. Ronald, bring over an extra seat and make room for Harry!" The questions turned into an unintelligible stream of sounds as Hermione's frantic voice combined with Mrs. Weasley's shrill one.

"Mum!" One of the two Weasley brothers Harry didn't know shouted out, gaining everyone's attention. "Any particular order you want him to answer those question? You're going so fast that no-one could follow. Besides he looks well enough at the moment, and St. Mungo's wouldn't have released him if he was still sick."

"He's right, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said. "It was in the beginning of summer. I'm fine now."

"Are you sure, dear? Still, it's best to take a seat and tell us what happened."

Harry let himself be led to a seat at the table by the Weasley matriarch where he was bombarded by questions from Hermione about what happened to him and from Ron about Wood becoming a reserve for Puddlemere.

"They'll be plenty of time for catching up later you two. Now Harry dear, what happened?" Mrs. Weasley asked in a voice tinged with concern.

"Well, I started having these headaches towards the end of school."

"You were sick during school and you didn't say anything!" Hermione cried out, interrupting him.

Harry just shrugged. "It was only a few days before school ended, and I thought it was me just not wanting to go back to the Dursley's."

"During the first week at the Dursley's, it became worse. I couldn't sleep and began blanking out and losing consciousness during chores. The Dursleys even noticed, and, not wanting to catch a freak's disease, locked me in my room for a few days. I was able to convince my uncle to bring me to London so I could go to St. Mungo's. Unfortunately, it was raining, and I blanked out and slipped on the sidewalks, breaking my glasses."

Harry continued to tell them the rest of what had happened this summer, though he conveniently left out any parts to do with his visions, Sirius, and his new relationship with Katie. Afterwards Hermione questioned him about his headaches and badgered him for not informing her after it happened. From the look in her eye Harry realized that she already knew, or at least suspected, that they were caused by the Time Turner.

"I'm Charlie," said the one of the two red-heads Harry didn't know, thankfully interrupting Hermione's rant, "and this long-haired pillock is Bill."

Harry chuckled at the description and shook both their hands. "It's nice to finally to meet you both, and I like the long hair, Bill. The earring, too. They make you look cool."

Bill grinned and patted his shoulder. "You and I are going to get along just fine!"

Mrs. Weasley must have heard his comment to Bill because she came over and began berating Bill about his hair, and Harry took the opportunity to get up and walk over to the Grangers. "It's nice to see you again Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger. And you must be Cassandra? Hermione's told me a lot about you," Harry said as he offered her his hand, taking the opportunity to look at her.

Shorter than Harry, he guessed Cassandra was nearly the same height of her younger sister and wondered if Hermione would grow anymore. The thick brown hair was the same, he noticed, though Cassandra's was shorter, ending just above her shoulders, and only the slightly wavy. She was wearing a rather expensive looking outfit — a silky, light black blouse and a black skirt that nicely accented her quite tan legs.

Taking another look at her Harry realized that while each of her features were quite similar to Hermione's, he wouldn't have guessed that they were sisters if he hadn't known already. He wasn't sure what it was, but there was something about her that made her completely different from Hermione while still looking the same.

Thankfully, she didn't say anything about his lengthy look, though Harry noticed her smile became a bit larger. "Yes, and it's great to finally meet you, Harry. So many of Hermione's letters mention you that I feel like I know you already," she replied, ignoring his outstretched hand completely and giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek instead.

Whistles and laughter from the twins interrupted them.

"Way to go, Harry!"  
"Women throwing themselves,"  
"at you! What a,"  
"problem to have!"  
"Bravo, Bravo!"

Harry blushed when he noticed they were now the center of attention, but Cassandra merely rolled her eyes and pulled Harry into another hug before pulling back a little and looking him in the eye. "It really is nice to meet you, Harry. You mean a lot to Hermione, and your friendship has made her happier than I've ever seen her. I know you all had problems last year, but remember that even when you two are out of sorts, she values your friendship more than anything else."

"I've changed a lot since then," Harry told her. "Last year was a mistake that will not happen again."

Cassandra laughed a bit at that. "I'm sure you'll have other fights. Just work through them better next time." Harry nodded as she let him go, stepping back next to her parents.

He was aware of Hermione's quizzical look and that the rest of the room was still looking at him, and he wasn't exactly sure what to say. Thankfully, Ron was nearby and provided Harry with the perfect way out — Quidditch. With a quick comment, he was able to pull Ron into a conversation about Oliver Wood, leaving the rest of the room to go back to what they were doing before.  
--

After learning that the Grangers had never seen someone on a broomstick, Harry decided to give him a demonstration with his Firebolt.

As Harry took off into the air, the worries of the world were left on the ground. Laughing, he banked sharply and accelerated down to the ground, pushing his broom for more and more speed. Merely a meter above the ground Harry gripped his broomstick as tightly as he could and slammed the brakes, not even waiting to fully stop before taking the broom nearly vertical as quickly as he could.

Higher and higher he climbed, spiraling and zigzagging his way up until he was high enough to see the edges of the town. He bent his knees, locked his ankles, and leaned back, letting gravity reach out and take hold of him. The adrenaline pumped through his body as he twisted and flipped through the air, free-falling back to ground. Finally, when he was about three quarters of the way back to the ground Harry forced himself back into position, regaining control and easing the Firebolt into a hover.

Ever since playing Quidditch at Hogwarts he'd been severely tempted to fly through the trees in the Forbidden Forest. Only the memories of being attacked by a half-dead Voldemort and nearly being eaten by Acromantula stopped him so far. Here though, in the safety of the Weasley's yard, and high on adrenaline, Harry had no second thoughts. He quickly sped off for the trees surrounding the Weasley's backyard, a huge smile on his face.

He raced into the trees using every bit of his skill to make his way through at such speeds. The thrill was amazing: His body reacted quicker than he thought possible, spotting branches and twisting the broom away from the oncoming danger before he ever realized it was a branch. He zoomed right and left, flying above or ducking below the branches, rolling hard to the left and right to avoid crashing. After nearly running into a large tree, he spiraled his way up it, ducking the branches as he circled within arm's reach of the trunk, breaking into the daylight for a moment just to dive back into the canopy of the forest. The feeling was amazing. This is what he loved!

Pulling out of his dive only moments before hitting the ground, Harry skimmed the dirt before rocketing back through the forest and into the daylight. After a few more sharp dives, barrel rolls and corkscrews, Harry gained a bit of altitude before diving directly at the group of spectators. Less than a meter from the group he pulled up hard, pushing the Firebolt's braking charms to their limit and touched down hard directly in front of the Grangers.

There was a great deal of cheering and congratulations, or in Mrs. Weasley's case, berating. It was Hermione's reaction that surprised him the most though. She didn't scold or lecture him at all; rather she praised his flying skills to her family. She even retold the story from their first flying lesson, where he stood-up for Neville and saved his Rememberall on his first time with a broom.

Harry knew he was blushing bright red, but he couldn't help it. He'd learned a lot of skills this summer but accepting praise was not one of them. He found it interesting to see how much Hermione had changed over the last three years. She still called him an idiot for disobeying a teacher in order to save Neville's Rememberall, but at the same time he could hear the pride in her voice, and Harry knew she didn't really mean it, not anymore.

Turning to pick up his Firebolt, Harry froze in shock at what he saw. There, in the air above him was the ghostly image of a larger-than-life sized Harry looking back at himself.

"It's a scrying spell." He managed to pull his eyes away from the image to see Charlie speaking to him. "We use it a lot on the Dragon preserve. Only works over a small range, bit over half a kilometer, but it helps us check up on the Dragons without having to disturb them by getting to close. They have truly amazing senses. The spells takes some of the fun out of it, but it's easier on the Dragons."

"We couldn't really keep track of you," he explained. "So I thought I'd make it a bit easier for everyone to watch. That was some impressive flying, by the way, especially dodging all those trees. I used to do it during the summers and know just how much skill what you did requires."

Harry just nodded. He understood why Charlie would cast the spell, but he didn't like the idea that someone could spy on him anytime they wanted. It reminded him far too much of how the Dursley's always spied on their neighbors.

After a bit of talking, Charlie and Harry took Mr. and Mrs. Granger for a quick broomstick ride. Neither wanted to go very fast or perform any extreme moves, but they seemed to enjoy being up in the air.

"I'm wearing a skirt today," Cassandra told him as Harry helped Mrs. Granger dismount his broomstick, "or I'd have you take me for a ride as well. When we come to pick up Hermione I'll be dressed for it, and you're going to push every limit you can. I love going fast! An ex-boyfriend of mine used to take me for rides on his motorcycle; the rush was incredible when he'd really punch it. There are only a few things that make me feel more alive than that did." She then added with a laugh, "It's probably one of the main reasons why I dated him for as long as I did."

"I think you'll have a new favorite after next week then." Harry said with a grin, confident in his abilities with the Firebolt. While he knew a fast motorcycle could easily beat his Firebolt in a straight race, they couldn't begin to compare when it came to maneuverability.

"You're going to be picking up Hermione?" asked Harry. He figured Hermione would just stay with them till school started in two weeks.

"The day after the World Cup," Cassandra answered. "Mom and Dad want to spend more time with her. I'm starting Uni this year and think that really got to them, made them realize that we were growing up and aren't their little girls anymore and all that. They even talked about opening a second office near my school so they could visit more often."

"Harry, you ripped your new shirt!" Mrs. Weasley said, interrupting them by grabbing his shirt and looking at the rip. "Come along dear, Merlin knows I've fixed up enough clothes in my time." Then, in an exasperated voice, she added, "What would you boys do if you couldn't get yourselves hurt!"

Mrs. Weasley led him to the laundry room and grabbed a box full of potion bottles from a shelf. "Now take off your shirt, dear. We'll see if you've managed to scratch yourself up as well."

The cold liquid Mrs. Weasley put on his side burned violently for a few moments before subsiding, leaving Harry with an odd numb sensation. "The scratches will be fine in a few moments dear. You may have a little bruise, but that'll help remind you to be more careful next time. I've heard about all your injuries during Quidditch. You really must look after yourself better!"  
--

Harry walked upstairs towards Ron's room to change into another shirt. Then he remembered that his trunk was still downstairs near the fireplace. Things had been so hectic, with all the questions about his summer and meeting the Grangers, that he hadn't even had a chance to bring it upstairs.

He wasn't paying much attention as he searched through his trunk for another shirt and was caught by surprise when all of a sudden there were several bright flashes behind him. Instinct took over, and he turned quickly, his wand appearing in his hand from his magical holster. Apparently everyone must have followed Mrs. Weasley and him inside because they were all in the kitchen with him now. Fred or George — Harry wasn't sure which — held a camera. He realized, with a bit of embarrassment, that the flashes were from it.

"Since it seems little Ginny"  
"couldn't stop staring"  
"at your bare chest."  
After another set of flashes they added,  
"We thought we'd"  
"get her a few pictures,"

Harry looked over towards Ginny and blushed even further. Looking around the room he was surprised to notice that Hermione, too, was blushing, and seemed to be looking anywhere but towards him.

"To replace her current pictures of you with these."  
"You know the ones on her bedside,"  
"her wall,"  
"her trunk,"  
"inside every one of her books."  
"This way she can ogle you"  
"anytime she wants."

The comments seemed to break Ginny out of her trance. She let out a high-pitched 'eep' and blushed so deeply Harry wondered if even her toes were flushed.

To make matters even worse the twins began singing in a squeaky voice.

"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,"  
"His hair is as dark as a blackboard,"  
"I wish he was mine,"  
"He's really divine,"  
"The hero who conquered the Dark Lord."

The twins busted out laughing, and even though Harry was embarrassed, he actually felt a great deal of sadness for Ginny. He couldn't imagine how she must feel.

"Sorry to break it to you dear little sister, but it seems you'll have to give up all your dreams."  
"What is this oh brother of mine?" the second twin asked the first with a grin.  
"Haven't you heard? It seems ickle Harrikins isn't so ickle anymore and got himself a girlfriend."  
"A girlfriend, you say? Who might this be?" asked the second red-head with a clearly faked interest.  
"The illustrious Gryffindor Quidditch star, Katie Bell!"  
"An older woman, too? He must not be as ickle as we thought."  
"Indeed, that is true brother of mine! Rumor has it they've been caught snogging in restaurants, private tents at the World Cup, and during late night walks under the moon. Several witnesses even commented they were jealous. It seems our Boy-Who-Lived is quite the kisser indeed! He made all the girls swoon just from watching."  
"Our Harry? The sweet innocent boy who can do no wrong? The rumors must be wrong!"  
"Innocent you say? I'm not too sure of that. Just between you and me, dear brother, there is one more rumor I haven't mentioned."  
"Oh, and what is this rumor, dear brother?"  
"It seems our innocent Harry here spent the night with the beautiful Miss Bell in her bed!"

"It was the sofa, not her bed!" snapped Harry, only realizing afterwards how that made things sound.

"So it's true!" one of the twins gasped. "We thought that last one was just a rumor!"

The other twin turned towards Ginny and laughingly told her, "Sorry ickle Gin Gin, but it seems someone beat you to him!"

Harry looked over at Ginny, and his heart stopped. She looked horrible!

So many emotions were playing through her body, though the two major ones were heartbroken and embarrassment. It was her face that really hit Harry, though it wasn't the freely flowing tears that caught his attention. Contrary to just a minute ago, her face was no longer red and flushed. It was deathly pale.

Death.

Images sprang to his mind: He saw Ginny lying on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, the Basilisk, the diary, Tom Riddle, Ginny's cold skin and deathly pale complexion as Tom explained how he was stealing her life.

He was barely aware of the twin's laughter and Ginny fleeing the room as more images flooded into his mind. These were of an older Ginny, laughing, smiling, snogging, then of her being hit by a curse and crying out in pain, of her soul-wrenching cries over the death of her parents, of Ginny with blood flowing down her robes. It was the last image that really shook Harry: Ginny once again with the deathly pale complexion, but now she was lying still in a casket as Harry looked down at her with tears falling from his eyes.

His emotions were all over the place: Anger, fear, happiness, sadness, and confusion were all warring for dominance inside of him. Anger won. Anger at the universe for his Ginny having to go through so much, anger at the twins for causing his Ginny pain, and anger at the twins for laughing at his Ginny's pain!

Without even realizing it, Harry acted. He grabbed both Fred and George and slammed them into the nearest wall, not realizing that while he'd begun his growth spurt, he was still quite a bit smaller than the twins.

"Did you think that was funny?" Harry asked them, anger clearly evident in his quiet voice.

"Answer me!" he roared at the startled red-heads. "Did you think it was funny to hurt her? Was watching her cry and taking pictures to tease her with later amusing to you? Did you learn nothing two years ago! She nearly died because of shite like that!"

"Harry..." one of the twins gasped out, but Harry was not in the mood to hear them talk.

"Maybe you didn't... You weren't the one who was possessed, who had to deal with an evil lunatic taking over your body and ordering you to kill innocent people! You weren't the one who held her cold, pale, body as she lay near death on the stone floor. You weren't the one who had to kill a 20-meter Basilisk, then face and murder the wraith of the man who murdered your parents! You weren't the one who felt death claim you as the Basilisk fang tore into your skin! And you aren't the one who has to live with the pain of the bloody venom destroying your body every second of every day for the rest of your life!"

The anger had slowly been burning itself out of his body during his rant, and when he finished he began to realize just what he had done. Harry was so shocked to see that he was nearly strangling Fred and George by holding them up against the wall that his grip faltered and allowed them to slide down the wall gasping for breath.

Looking around, Harry saw everyone just staring at him. His eyes widened as he noticed Ginny was there, too. She must have come back after she heard the yelling. He backed away slowly, trying to come to terms with what he had just done.

"I'm sorry," he stuttered as Mrs. Weasley rushed over to the twins. "I… I don't know what came over me."

"You're shivering. Why don't you sit down a minute?" Harry was still lost in his thoughts, but he let Mrs. Granger lead him to a chair in the family room.

A few minutes later he was shaken out his thoughts. "Mrs. Weasley!" Harry gasped out when he noticed she was kneeling in front of him. "I'm sorry, I … I should leave."

"The boys are fine dear," Mrs. Weasley said in a calm voice as she put a hand on his arm to prevent him from leaving, "but I need to know what happened."

"I don't know!" Harry said as he ran his hand through his hair. "I was just embarrassed at first, but when I saw the look on her face, so pale … All I could see was her lying on the dirty stone floor of the Chamber of Secrets … Then the Basilisk, the diary, Tom, the feeling of her skin ... It was cold and it felt like her body was pulling the warmth from mine."

Harry shook his head a little, trying to clear out the memories, and continued, "When I saw her run away crying I … I couldn't think. I just flipped. I was barely myself. I mean, I know I did it. It was just … I was so angry at them for hurting Ginny that I didn't even realize what I was doing until the end."

"What about the magic then?" asked Charlie, sounding more than a little frustrated.

Harry's mind was still swimming, but he hadn't thought he had cast any spells, had he?

Hermione, who was standing next to his chair, answered his unasked question in a concerned voice. "Harry, you picked up and held Fred _and _George to the wall like it was nothing. You've grown this summer, but they still outweigh you by at least 30 Kilograms, each."

"And I could feel the magic you were producing from across the room," Charlie added.

Harry had done magic several times without meaning to, mostly when Ollivander or Sirius, would test his reactions and ability to sense an incoming attack, but he remembered each of those times perfectly. "I don't know. My head was swarming and I … I don't remember any magic," Harry told Hermione, looking her in the eyes and hoping to show her he really didn't know.

Harry put his head in his hands, trying to fight off the headache that had arrived since this had all begun. _It had been such a fun afternoon! Why did something always happen to me?_

"Molly, dear," Mr. Weasley said. Harry hadn't even noticed that Mr. Weasley had returned and almost smiled at the thought of Sirius and Ollivander nagging him for missing such a potential threat. "Why don't you make a few cups of tea for the children? I'm sure this must be difficult on them."

While Mrs. Weasley was making tea, Mr. Weasley pulled Bill and Charlie away from the group to ask them about what happened.

"Harry?"

It was her tone that gained Harry's attention as Hermione was rarely anything but direct. "What did you mean when you said that you'd feel the pain from Basilisk for the rest of your life?"

Harry mentally groaned. He hadn't meant to tell anyone about that. He was about to make up an excuse but stopped once he saw look on her face; she wouldn't accept anything but the truth.

"There's no cure for Basilisk Venom."

"You said Fawkes healed you, though, and Phoenix Tears have powerful healing properties."

Harry sighed slightly and closed his eyes. Even more than a year later, he still didn't like to think back to that night.

"Fawkes did save me. The Phoenix tears and Basilisk venom will always remain in me though, the venom constantly destroying my body as the tears continuously heal it."

"But McKael's tome, _Extraordinary Magical Feats,_ and Larson's codex on Magical Miracles both state that Phoenix tears are one of the most magical substances known and can heal any malady, no matter how serious, as long as the person is still alive," Hermione said, frustrated that her best friend would always hurt and even more frustrated because she hadn't known about it!

"Actually," added Bill, having walked over to hear about how Fawkes had healed Harry. "They probably say that they suspect Phoenix tears could heal any malady. Phoenixes are incredible rare. Currently, there are only two domesticated Phoenixes alive, and only seven have been confirmed in the last millennium. There was one other rumored to have been domesticated by a Chinese wizard a couple hundred years ago, but there are several conflicting reports about it."

"Even counting that one," he continued, "there have only been ten known cases where a Phoenix shed tears to heal someone. But like Hermione, everything I've ever read has stated that the tears are believed to be one of the most potent magical substances known."

"I don't think they heal at all really," Harry told them. "I try not to think of it much, but I'm pretty sure it's Fawkes himself who's actually healing me, not the tears. I can tell when Fawkes is close to his burning day because I start feeling a lot worse. But once he grows a little, I start to feel normal again."

"Merlin!" Bill said with a laugh. "You realize that that little fact right there is enough to completely alter the way academics see Phoenixes. It makes sense though, and it explains why there have been so few cases of people being healed by Phoenix tears. It's not too difficult to keep one spell active all the time, but to keep a dozen spells active all day, every day, for the next couple hundred years …"

"You may want to talk to Professor Dumbledore before you say much more about it though," Bill added a moment later. "No-one who has ever tamed a Phoenix has really spoken about them. It's why so little is known. If the academic community ever found out about this, you'd have dozens of witches and wizards wanting to run all sorts of tests on you."

Harry didn't have to think about it much longer as Mrs. Weasley arrived with a pot of tea and cups for them. Sipping the hot tea was exactly what he needed as the warmth seemed to flow through him, soaking into the furthest reaches of his body and calming his over-stressed mind.

Thankfully the rest of the evening passed without much notice by Harry. He was fairly certain Mrs. Weasley mixed some sort of potion in with the tea, but he couldn't find the energy to argue about it. If anything, he was thankful as the warmth flowed through his body and calmed his over-stressed mind.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Out of habit, Harry woke up early the next day and couldn't get back to sleep no matter how hard he tried. His body was used to doing the chores for the Dursley's or the magical exercises Ollivander assigned him, and he now had way too much energy in the mornings. Checking the magical box Ollivander gave him, Harry found another elixir waiting for him, along with a potion he knew would taste horrible. Chugging down the vile potion as quickly as he could, Harry wondered how long he'd have to keep drinking them.

"You're awake early," Percy commented as he walked into the kitchen.

"I normally start my chores a couple hours before the Dursleys get up. It's kind of a habit now."

"Good parents, those Dursleys. I keep telling Mother that she should have more chores for the kids to do, but save for degnoming the garden and cleaning their rooms, she won't hear of it."

Harry wanted to tell him just what type of parents the Dursleys really were, but he knew it wouldn't do any good — Percy was just like that sometimes.

"How about you?" Harry asked, realizing it was so early that not even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were up yet. "What are you doing up this early?"

"I'm just preparing the documents I'll need for the day. Negotiations are quite stressful at the moment, and the early mornings are the only time I can get any peace around here."

"You know," Harry said, "my uncle makes a lot of deals by taking clients out for tea, dinner and drinks, the opera, or a golf course. Things like that. He always says that people are more confrontational in the office, but once you take them out and charm them, they're much more open towards business." As much as Harry hated to admit it — and he really did hate to admit it — Uncle Vernon was good at his job and had worked hard to earn his position within the company.

"Outside the office you say? A ridiculous notion for meetings in my opinion," said Percy in his stiff tone.

"The negotiations have stagnated though," he added. "Perhaps a change of scenery is in order. I'll mention it to Mr. Crouch."

Harry just nodded to him and headed out the door to the backyard. Running through the grasslands and forest that surrounded the Weasleys' home was quite a bit different than he was used to at the Dursleys'. There was a sense of peace and tranquility at being out in nature at such an early hour, and he loved it.

Like when he cast spells for Ollivander, Harry let his body continue to run while allowing his mind to be free. He was hoping to do things a bit differently this time though. The incident yesterday proved there were more memories than he knew about and that they'd undoubtedly continue to affect him. He needed to understand them better and find a way to tell the difference between his own memories and those from the future. They all seemed so real. It was only the fact that most the memories were of an older Harry, of things he _knew_ couldn't have happened yet, that let him know the difference. _Could there be others though? Perhaps there were memories of a slightly older Harry that seemed so real he accepted them without question. _

Lost in thought, Harry wasn't sure how far he'd run or even where he was. By the time he finally made it back to the Weasley's, Ron was already up in the air with Ginny, Fred, and George. Hermione, who'd been reading in the shade of one of the trees, wasted no time in dragging him off to talk.

It turned out Harry had been right in thinking Hermione suspected there was more to his headaches than he admitted. She'd received a few of them herself throughout the year. Besides the ability to go back in time, the Time Turner was also enchanted to protect the wearer from different forms of time disruptions. Some of the enchantments only worked if the Time Turner was touching the skin, and sometimes during the night it'd slip. He didn't ask, but from the way she tensed at even the mention of them, Harry was pretty sure at least some of the things she saw were like his own visions: horrible.

Having dealt with them first hand, Harry knew all too well how much even a few could bother a person and felt guilty about their fight last year. If all his visions were what he only received from just the one experience playing with time, Harry couldn't imagine what she must have gone through having used it an entire year. He'd find some way to make it up to her.

Ron and the others seemed to notice he was there finally and called him up for some Quidditch. Though they didn't hold any sort of competition, since Harry's Firebolt was much nicer than Charlie's older Comet, spending a few hours flying was still a lot of fun. Charlie was loads better than the competition at Hogwarts and even took the time to give Harry some pointers. By slightly changing his position and weight distribution on the broom, he could temporarily increase his speed at the expense of maneuverability, or he could increase his maneuverability by losing a bit of stability but still keeping his speed. There were quite a few other little tricks, and Harry was amazed by how much more there was to flying than he'd ever thought.

--

Harry woke up early again the next morning and was surprised to find Charlie sitting at the kitchen table.

"Morning," Charlie said as Harry fixed himself a glass of water.

"Didn't figure you as an early riser. It's still at least an hour or two before sunrise."

"Which would explain why you're up as well?" asked Charlie.

"Good point," Harry admitted. "You know, I can go back to bed if you want to get a couple more hours of sleep."

"I'm that see through, huh?"

"There aren't many reasons for anyone to be up at this hour. That, and you're already prepared for a run," Harry said with a gesture towards Charlie's clothes, including his running trainers.

"I heard you were quick, and I wouldn't have put those together myself. Percy mentioned your early morning run to Mom last night. Don't worry about going back to bed, though, I'm used to being up early. At the Preserve we rotate shifts in order to keep a 24-hour watch. Besides," Charlie added with a grin, "this works out better for me. I can head up to my room early tonight claiming sleepiness and then Apparate out to meet a few friends."

Harry just nodded to him, as he wondered what the freedom of being to Apparate someplace whenever he wanted would be like. The idea of seeing Katie again was nice.

"I can see why you like this," Charlie commented a few minutes later as they jogged through a path in the forest. "It's peaceful. It reminds me of when I first went to Romania for my internship 10 years ago. The sound of nature was so different from anything I'd ever heard before. Back then the Burrow was even nosier than it is now, if you can believe that. Of course Ginny and Ron were only three and four years old, and the twins were only six."

"What were they like?" asked Harry.

"The twins?"

"Any of them really. Ron, Ginny, the twins, Percy. Just growing up here with little kids around."

"Different," Charlie answered. "When Bill and I were home in the summer, I'd help watch Percy and the twins, while Bill was responsible for Ginny and Ron."

"You had to watch the twins?" Harry asked, imagining all the trouble those two could cause. "That must've been an adventure."

"Not as much as you might think. They weren't troublemakers then; that didn't start until Hogwarts. Percy was their best friend and role model since the beginning. I used to joke about Percy having three shadows. They hated it when he'd go off to Hogwarts without them, and they spent two years looking forward to finally being able to go themselves. I think they expected everything to go back to the way it was, but Percy was in third year by then and had friends of his own. The pranks were their way of trying to get his attention. In a way it worked — just not like they expected."

Charlie went silent a moment, before adding, "That's why they pick on him so much, you know. The twins don't actually hate him. It's just how they get the attention of their older brother — or at least that's how it started anyway. I'm really not too sure about those two anymore. They've changed over the years and seem to actually believe their own lies about the pranks. It also helps explain Percy a bit. The professors held him responsible for his younger brothers, so every time the twins pulled a prank, Percy had to be that much more above the board."

The next few days were spent similarly. The Weasleys seemed to have some sort of agreement not to mention what happened the first day, and while this would normally annoy him, he was actually quite thankful for it. The twins also seemed to be a bit warier about their so-called jokes. They still pulled a few pranks on everyone from their mother to Hermione, but they left Ginny and him alone — not even a single teasing word had been said to either of them since that first day. If he'd known that would happen, Harry would have thrown them against the wall ages ago.

--

"You're too bloody cheerful for this early in the morning," muttered Ron as he made his way downstairs the next morning.

"Too right," Fred or George yawned.

He noticed Hermione and Ginny seemed to be in an unusually grumpy mood this morning as well. Sure it was early, but still … "How can you all be grouchy on a day like today? We're going to the World Cup!"

The dirty looks thrown his way were enough to keep him from making any more comments. Not that they did anything to dampen his spirits.

"Well, what d'you think Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked, gesturing towards the seven sets of clothing he'd selected for the rest of the Weasleys to wear. "We're supposed to blend in as Muggles."

Harry wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry at the selection of clothes. A quick glance towards Hermione showed that she wasn't faring much better. Now he wasn't much on fashion himself, but even Harry knew that the amount of reds, purples, greens, and yellows before him would draw the attention of every Muggle they passed.

"Um … They're bright, sir. Wouldn't it be easier just to cast a quick notice-me-not charm on normal robes?"

"Well, yes," he admitted, "but where's the fun in that?"

Mr. Weasley smile was so genuine that Harry couldn't tell him how horriblely they'd all stand out. Besides, it wasn't like he'd be wearing any of it. In a whisper, he told Bill to cast a notice-me-not charm on all the clothes anyway.

"What d'you mean?" asked Bill. "I thought they were pretty spiffy myself."

He just stared at Bill a moment. _Mr. Weasley he could understand, as he was already a bit weird, but Bill?_

"Ah, OK," Harry said, hoping there wouldn't be many people about so early in the morning.

The walk to the nearby village didn't take all that long, at least from Harry's perspective, though he could tell most the others weren't handling the distance nearly as well.

A figure called out to them as the group trotted up the hilltop. "Over here, Arthur!"

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr. Weasley. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

"Hi," said Cedric, looking around at them all.

Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the group. "Going with the new Muggle fashion I see. Very nice, blend right in. We went with the more traditional look ourselves."

_New Muggle fashion? Traditional look? Perhaps if we lived several hundred years ago — they look like they just walked out of a Renaissance painting._

"All these yours, Arthur?"

"Oh no, only the redheads," said Mr. Weasley, pointing out his children. "This is Hermione, friend of Ron's — and Harry, another friend."

"Merlin's beard," said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Err, yeah," said Harry, feeling uneasy from meeting Cedric and Mr. Diggory, though he couldn't figure out why.

"Ced's talked about you, of course," said Amos Diggory. "Told us all about playing against you last year ... I said to him, I said, Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will ... You beat Harry Potter!"

"Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered. "I told you ... It was an accident."

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman ... But the best man won. I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, and one stays on. You don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"

"You're right, sir," Harry admitted. As much as he may hate it, even Wood knew Harry lost that game. "Even if the _Dementors_ hadn't attacked, Cedric would've won. He's a great Seeker, and I'm looking forward to our next re-match. Too bad there won't be any Quidditch this year."

"What?" nearly all the redheads and Cedric shouted.

"You all haven't heard?" asked Harry, having figured Lee or one of the others would've filled the twins in. "They canceled Quidditch because there's going to be some sort of big event involving like five or six other countries at Hogwarts this year."

"Where'd you hear this, son?" Amos Diggory asked as the others were muttering amongst themselves.

"At the World Cup. Some of my friends have been camped there the last few weeks. The rumor is floating all over."

"I knew they were up to something, but I never expected them to bring the trial back. Thank you, son. I'm going have to talk to a few people. Arthur, I'll need you do the same."

"Of course," Mr. Weasley responded instantly. "I have a hard time believing they'd bring that back, not with all the dangers, but I've known Harry a few years now. He's a reliable sort when it comes to things like this."

"Ah. Here comes the Fawcetts. They're the last we're waiting for," Mr. Diggory said as Harry glanced over to see a group of five walking towards them. "Lucy, over here girl!

"

"I thought you were already at the World Cup?" Harry said to Sarah, a Hufflepuff girl in his year, as the adults started talking amongst themselves.

"No, I was there with Hannah and her family. They'd just arrived that morning," Sarah replied.

"I know how that feels. One moment I'm talking with Mr. Bell and Lee Jordan and the next we're being thanked for _volunteering_ to help set up everything for Katie, Angelina, and Alicia."

"From what I heard, you were well thanked," she said in a teasing voice that caused Harry to blush.

"Alright everyone," said Mr. Diggory, "gather around. The Portkey's field should cover the top of the hill, but better safe than sorry I say. I'll activate it as soon as we're all ready."

Harry felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. They were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and infinite blackness. Suddenly the noise died, and Harry found himself standing perfectly in front of a pair of tired and frumpy-looking wizards. Looking around he found Ron, Hermione, and most the others either sprawled out on the ground or just barely standing. He smiled.

If not for Ollivander's lessons, he'd have been the same way. All you had to do was trust the magic. It was when you tried to compensate for the magic — in this case trying to force yourself to stay standing — that you ran into trouble.

Making sure that his invisibility cloak had stayed hidden, Harry took a look around and was stunned by what he saw. They were on a circular platform with a highly polished, dark wood floor that overlooked the Quidditch field for the World Cup by a good two hundred feet above the ground. What he saw earlier this summer, and thought big at the time, was nothing compared to what he was looking at now.

Pretty much everywhere he looked were fields full of tents. The rather chaotic layout Harry remembered from the ground actually made a great deal of sense from up here; the tent locations all spiraled outward from the center, the Quidditch Pitch. The rest of the group was up and looking over the sides in shock as well; even the adults seemed impressed by what they saw. The ride down on the lift was just as impressive as the platform, and Harry spent his time staring at the masses of people everywhere.

Thankfully, the plots for box seat holders were separated from the rest and easy to get to. The same could not be said for setting up the tent, however, as Mr. Weasley decided to do things the Muggle way. Still, in less than an hour, the large, four-bedroom tent had been erected, and they were finally getting ready to head out into the fair.

"Arthur," a voice called out as they arrived to the main section of the fair. "There you are!"

Looking towards the voice calling them from the entrance of the main section of the fair Harry saw a stiff, elderly man in a well-fitted suit.

"This is Bartemius Crouch, everyone," Mr. Weasley said as they approached the uptight and serious-looking man. "He heads the Department of International Magical Cooperation at the Ministry."

"Ah, Potter," Crouch said, putting out his hand for Harry to shake. "Young Mr. Weasley told me your idea for moving the meetings out of the office. Ingenious! Worked wonders, my boy."

"And this," Mr. Weasley said, introducing them all to the middle-aged foreigner who was next to Mr. Crouch, "is Ali Bashir, heir of the Bashir family, designers of magical carpets for a great many years."

"Flying Carpets?" Harry asked as he thought back to his encounter with the creature in Ollivander's house. "Can you make those carpets that can fly on their own and almost seem to react to the rider's mind?"

Ali Bashir's eyes widened for a moment before he grinned. "I am most impressed Mr. Potter. Very few Westerners know of the Napšutu carpets, let alone one so young. Where did you hear about one?"

Harry he wasn't about to tell him about the vision, or whatever that had been. "I read about one," he said instead. "Some villagers were being attack by a magical creature when an old man saved them. The author, I don't remember who anymore, went into detail about the fight. That's what interested me. The man fought from a flying carpet that seemed to react as if it was one with the rider, and it even came to him when he needed it."

"Very interesting. That must have been before carpets were banned of course," Mr. Crouch said, his sharp eyes glancing once towards the foreigner before focusing on Mr. Weasley again. "This brings us to you, Arthur. Ali here was just asking me about your embargo on flying carpets."

"I'm sorry, Ali, but I sent you an owl on this subject several times before. It's not a personal decision; carpets are defined as Muggle Artifacts by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects. As such, the sale or use of a flying carpet is prohibited."

"Actually, sir," Harry interjected, "I don't know much about that Registry, but a carpet is no more Muggle than a broom. I'm kind of partial to my Firebolt, of course, but I could easily see a Flying carpet for a family with children — especially if you put on a Muggle notice-me-not charm on it. Wouldn't it have been nice for the walk we did this morning? I was actually kind of surprised that the magical world didn't use flying carpets. The Muggles have had them in their stories for ages. I don't remember that much about it myself, but it's quite well accepted in the Muggle world."

"Flying carpets have appeared in literature since the Biblical times." It was Hermione, in her regular position beside him, who answered in a lecturing tone that Harry and Ron knew so well. "In the 10th century BC, King Solomon's throne sat on a magical carpet, a gift from the Queen of Sheba, which was large enough for his entire entourage. Though it wasn't until around 800 AD, with the popularity of _One Thousand and One Nights,_ that the idea of magical carpets was really brought to the West. Also, Russian folklore tells that the hag Baba Yaga supplied Ivan the Fool, a lucky but simple-minded young man, with a flying carpet. Even the newer American culture tells of magical carpets. In Mark Twain's_ Captain Stormfield's Visit to Heaven,_ flying carpets were used to travel throughout Heaven."

"You don't say," Mr. Weasley said, intrigued to learn more about the Muggle world. Ali Bashir, however, sensed an opening and moved in to renew his protests before Arthur could ask any more.

"Alright, what's going on Harry?" Hermione asked in a moment of uncharacteristic bluntness as they made their way out into the Fair.

"What do you mean?"

"What's happened to you? You dealt with Mr. Diggory and Mr. Crouch admirably, even when Diggory nearly insulted you. What was that about your idea helping Mr. Crouch? How did you know so much about the Flying Carpets, and since when do you speak your mind like that? You just gave them The-Boy-Who-Lived's endorsement on selling carpets here. To put it bluntly, when did you learn tact?"

"Yeah, mate," Ron added. "And how is it you knew that Hufflepuff bloke and the girl back there?"

"I don't know Cedric all that well, really; we've just talked a few times at school. We've both been playing Quidditch for the last three years, and we've had classes with Sarah before, mate. I saw her hanging out with some friends of Katie's at a party here over the summer, so I just thought she'd been camping there, too."

"As for the tact," Harry said, turning towards Hermione. "I guess I just sort of picked it up. I haven't had a chance to tell you everything that happened over the summer, but basically Ollivander has been helping me a lot more than I let on. One of the things he kind of drove home was that it'd be smart to get to know people better, or at least learn how to really talk to people. It's not like I had a lot of practice talking with the Dursleys, so I spent some time talking with the regulars in the Alley. Honestly, it was kind of fun once I started to get to know them. It's amazing just how different everyone is once you look past the basics."

"What else did he help you with?" Hermione asked as Ron asked him why he couldn't say anything at the Burrow.

"I'll tell everything, but we'll need time and privacy, so it'll have to wait till Hogwarts. This _really_ can't be overheard. Besides, we're at the World Cup! So come on, let's go explore some."

The entire area was filled with people ranging from tiny babies clutched in their mother's arms to old men who could give Dumbledore a run for his money with the size of their beards. Going through all the different booths of the World Cup was like nothing Harry ever imagined before. Merchants and Peddlers from throughout the world were all there trying to sell their wares.

Quite a few of the booths were set up for entertainment as well. Many had games and prizes or rides and magical simulations close to what Harry imagined a modern-day theme park would have. _The Wizarding world was generally hundreds of years behind the Muggle world, but they had all this?_ He was even more shocked when he mentioned it to Hermione and learned that fairs had been around for a lot longer than he suspected.

"Amusement parks can be traced clear back to medieval times," explained Hermione, eager to feed his interest on the subject. "Pleasure gardens were often built on the outskirts large of cities, both Muggle and magical, and sometimes had as many as 20,000 visitors in a single night. Live entertainment, games, dancing, and fireworks were common among them for many years until the advent of railways in the mid-1800s. There are still a couple in operation today though; one in Copenhagen caters to both Magical and Muggle tourists and is the oldest amusement park in the world."

Unfortunately, the World Cup started at noon, so the three of them only had a few hours to look around at all the amazing booths before they had to head back. Still, they each managed to play a few games and Ron even bought a Victor Krum figurine, while Hermione bought two books from a foreign wizard. Harry had eyed the rather ingenious Omnioculars, but at 10 galleons, they were far too expensive for what he needed.

When it was time they all met back at the tent and made their way through the crowds towards the stadium. Once in sight of it, Harry couldn't help but stop as he looked upon it in awe. Though he could see only a fraction of the immense walls surrounding the field, he could tell that ten Hogwarts castles would easily fit inside it.

"Seats two hundred thousand," Mr. Weasley said with a spot of pride in his voice as he led the way toward the nearest entrance. "Nearly every member of the Ministry worked on it at some point over the last year."

Harry knew they would have good seats, but once they arrived he couldn't believe how great they really were. The box was located exactly halfway between the goal posts and only slightly higher than where the Seekers would be looking for the Snitch. To Harry, this was the absolute perfect spot.

The box gradually filled in around them, but Harry was too busy looking around the enormous stadium to pay attention until he heard his name being called. Looking back he saw the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, walking towards him.

It was rather annoying, Harry decided, to be introduced around like he was some sort of object. Still, the Minister had gotten him out of trouble last year, so he put up with the clumsy introduction. While Fudge tried to introduce Malfoy to the Bulgarian Minister, Harry saw something. If he hadn't worked so much on his perception, he probably would've written it off as his imagination. He had worked on it a great deal though and _knew_ what he saw. For only the barest of moments, while Fudge was massacring the introduction, a flash of irritation and indignation had crossed the Bulgarian Minister's face. He understood what was being said!

"Does he really believe you don't understand him?" Harry asked after Malfoy and Fudge went to meet some other wizard. While nowhere near as big as Hagrid, the Bulgarian was still one of the larger men he'd ever seen.

A slight smile graced the man's face before he spoke in a heavily accented, but quite understandable voice: "Never underestimate the arrogance of a Brit."

Hermione gasped, but Harry wasn't sure if it was because of the backhanded insult or the fact that the Bulgarian spoke English. And, after taking a look at Fudge being all chummy with Malfoy, he didn't know which should insult him more: what the man said or the fact that it was true.

"This is one of my best friends, Hermione Granger. She's easily the most brilliant student in Hogwarts, and she's probably one of the smartest witches her age in the world," said Harry, knowing full well the effect flattery had on her and enjoying her blush. It was nice not to be the one blushing for once. He'd lost count how many times Katie had caused him to blush this summer.

After another rather annoying call of his name by Fudge, Harry rather reluctantly left the Bulgarian to go meet a few more VIPs. He wanted to introduce Hermione to them as well, if for no other reason than to shove it in Malfoy's face that Hermione was far smarter than his son, but she had stayed behind to talk to the Bulgarian Minister.

Thankfully, after about 15 minutes of being stared at by different witches and wizards, Harry was saved. Ludo Bagman, the famous former Wasp player, started the proceedings by introducing the Bulgarian Mascots.

The Veela were exotic and amazingly beautiful, but Harry had the odd feeling that he'd seen them somewhere before. Shrugging it off, he watched as they danced. The dance itself wasn't terribly erotic, but Harry and couldn't help but feel turned on by it. The faster and faster they went, the worse it became. It wasn't the best thing in the world to have happen while standing next to your best friend, who also happened to be a girl. Slouching forward a bit, Harry tried to casually adjust himself. Thankfully, Hermione was too busy stopping Ron from jumping out of the box to notice.

The Irish introduction was just as impressive as the Veelas. A giant green and gold comet circled the stadium before breaking into two pieces, each heading for the opposing goal posts. The rainbow that appeared as they passed was cool, but the formation of a great, shimmering, shamrock that exploded over head only to rain down thousands of little leprechauns was amazing. Harry, like the rest of the stadium, was deeply impressed by the huge display of magic.

The next few hours were a blur for Harry, who had never seen Quidditch played like this before. Every player was pushing their limits all the time; there were no slow spells, no stopping to catch up on what was happening. Even after three years of playing with three great Chasers, Harry had a difficult time keeping up with the Quaffle as it was passed up and down the pitch. The Chasers dived, jinxed, faked, rolled, and passed at amazing speeds. Incredibly complex plays that Harry knew of, but had never seen before, were done with split-second precision.

The Bludgers screamed across the field, never where a player was but rather where they would be. They rarely hit, however, as the Beaters for both teams seemed to be nearly telepathic. It was almost like there was a completely separate game being played just between those four. Even with such amazing Beaters, a few got through and easily interrupted the play, even forcing a couple drops.

The Seekers dove repeatedly, feinting time after time, to the cheers of the crowd. Harry knew what it looked like to be on a Firebolt, to be pushing such fast speeds while constantly seeking for the Snitch, but he'd never seen it from the perspective of a fan before. It was truly a sight. Krum and Lynch were little more than blurs at the slower times, and Harry was quite certain they passed by without him even seeing them more than once.

Ireland managed to get a lead of around 70 points by the end of the second hour, but Bulgaria was making them fight for every point. There was something odd about the way Bulgaria was playing, but Harry couldn't put his finger on it. It was after one specific play near the beginning of the third hour, where a Bulgarian chaser allowed the Quaffle to fall on a bad pass, that Harry knew something wasn't right. The way the team reacted was wrong. They were still playing a defensive game even when they were down by 90 points!

It was Charlie who recognized Bulgaria's strategy. They weren't going for the goals; they were wearing Ireland out and fast! Charlie screamed it out, knowing it was futile and that the team wouldn't be able to hear him.

Harry, alerted by Charlie's yell, also realized what was happening and could do nothing but watch. There was nothing Ireland could really do against it but let it play out. The only hope for them now was to catch the snitch quickly. Unfortunately, as the fourth hour progressed, it became painfully obvious that Charlie was right. Ireland was still playing strong, but the minuet differences caused by the fatigue were enough for Bulgaria to make their move. And make their move they did.

About halfway through the fifth hour, with Bulgaria behind by only 20 points, Lynch took off into a steep dive. Most people assumed it was a feint, but Harry was sure it was the real thing. "He's seen the Snitch!" Harry shouted! If Lynch could get the Snitch first, Ireland would win!

Unfortunately, Krum had been paying attention as well and was on his tail the entire way down.

Realizing that it wasn't a feint, the entire stadium was on its feet yelling and cheering for their team. As they hurtled down toward the ground, Krum managed to draw level with Lynch. Neck and neck they approached the ground at breakneck speeds. At the last possible second both seekers grasped at the air and brought their brooms up, trying to break before hitting.

It didn't work. Both Seekers hit the ground and went tumbling a good several meters. The stadium erupted into chaos. Everyone was shouting and trying to figure out who had the snitch. Finally, after a few long moments, Krum's hand went up into the air. He had the Snitch. Bulgaria had won.

--

The line to leave the stadium was long and slow-moving but they were all laughing and having too much of a good time to really care. By the time they finally reached their tents, everyone was ravenous, not having eaten since early that morning, and they all gorged themselves on the delicious food Mrs. Weasley had packed for them. Even Hermione, who generally preferred salads, was affected by the festive atmosphere and looked past the rabbit food to enjoy the excellent meat and treats.

After countless servings of food, Harry and Ron sat on the couch in the main room, their robes and ties draped over the back and shirts partially unbuttoned, lounging and joining in the conversation about the World Cup. After a couple hours of rehashing every move from the World Cup, as well as a few stories from Charlie and Bill about a previous World Cup they'd gone to, the lethargy set in and everyone slowly migrated towards their beds. This was exactly what Harry had been waiting for. Soon he'd be able to sneak out and surprise Katie.

The minutes ticked by slowly, driving Harry nuts as he stared up at the drag ceiling of the magically enlarged tent. Finally, after what he swore to be three or four hours, but was actually less than one, Harry was certain that Ron, Fred, and George were all fast asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

'Looks like I don't need my invisibility cloak after all,' Harry thought as he stepped out into the moonlit night. He wasn't the only one awake. Actually, from the amount of activity and noise around him, it almost seemed like the Weasleys were the only ones to go to bed. Still, to be on the safe side, Harry kept under his cloak until he was well away from the Weasley's tent.

Unfortunately, because of how cheap the tickets Katie and her friends had were, Harry had quite a ways to walk. Though he was sure that it wouldn't have been so bad during the day, at night and with only the moonlight to help guide him, it was a nightmare. Eventually, he found the right camp site and went looking for Katie. It had taken him nearly an hour to get there, but he was pretty sure it'd only take half that to get back to the Weasley's tent now that he knew the way.

Glancing to the left, Harry saw her silhouette through the crowd. Stopping, he took a long look at her. Katie wore a modest skirt and turtleneck. Somehow though, it was still enough to make him blush. He hadn't realized how much he missed spending time with her until he'd been at the Weasley's. This had been the longest they'd gone without seeing each other since he originally ran into her a couple weeks into the summer.

Harry's stomach rumbled and threatened to erupt as he notice two older boys he didn't know were standing close to Katie, far too close for his comfort. A part of him wanted to run over there and kiss her in front of them all to show she was already taken, that she was his. He managed to squash the feeling down though. He'd already made a fool of himself by being jealous once before. Katie had thought it was cute at the time, but he wasn't about to test things.

"Katie!" Harry called out to her as approached the group of students she was with.

"Harry!" she called out in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here with the Weasleys. They went to bed early though, so I snuck out to come see you."

"That's great!" she said with a smile. There was an awkward pause afterwards, where they each patiently waited for the other to say something. The silence was broken by a couple of the girls nearby falling into giggles. That brought them both back to reality, and Katie introduced him to the group she was hanging out with.

Harry had a good time talking with a group, but he was still rather put out. He'd snuck out to see Katie — not to talk with other people. He didn't know what to say to her, however, so he just went along with everyone else.

Thankfully, he was only there for another 20 or 30 minutes before Katie made their excuses. Once out of the group, she and Harry took a walk away from the campsite and towards the woods. Harry opened his mouth to try to say something, but nothing came out. His heart was racing, yet his throat was too dry to function properly. This was not how things were suppose to go!

When they were sufficiently away from the crowds, Katie turned towards him, took his hands, and told him that she was glad to see him. She continued, saying they had spent so much time with each other this summer that she hadn't realized how much she missed him until he was gone. Harry was rather surprised by her words — not only because they described exactly how he was feeling, but because _she_ missed him! In all his thoughts about her, it never even occurred to him that she might miss him as well.

She looked into his eyes for a moment and must have seen something she liked because her lips instantly found his. Emotions swirled together, and lust and desire won out as they began to kiss with a need and ferociousness that surprised them both. Nine days apart was just too long. Though his hands stayed on her waist, Katie's somehow ended up around him, both pulling him closer and driving him mad by slowly moving up and down his back. This kiss was more passionate than any of their previous kisses.

The kiss ended just as abruptly as it began, with Katie pulling back and walking further away from the camp site like nothing out of the ordinary just happened. Harry just stood there like a buffoon, his eyes huge and his throat surprisingly dry. It took him a few moments to regain enough motor control to follow her. Well, he hadn't planned that either, but he wasn't about to complain.

The walk was rather silent and a little awkward as each was too busy thinking about the mind-blowing kiss they just had and not knowing how to act now.

When they arrived at the spot she was leading them too, Harry stopped and stood in awe at the scene before him. A small pool dominated the clearing, casting reflections off its mirror-like surface. Trees arched over it, their boughs defining the moonlight into bluish beams that struck the surface of the water like magical energy flowing down a stream.

The young pair blushed as they heard the unmistakable sound of a moan filter through the silence. Apparently they weren't alone in finding such a wondrous spot. Glancing around, Harry could see movement in at least two or three different spots around the edges of the clearing.

The intensity and lust from before was gone, leaving Harry nervous and unsure of what to do or say. Katie turned toward him as they reached the dark shadows of a tree, and he could tell that she was just as nervous as he. Oddly, knowing that she was just as much a stranger to these feelings as he was actually calmed him down a bit and bolstered his courage.

As he placed his arms around her shoulders, Katie almost unconsciously moved closer to him. Her face tilted up slightly, and Harry lowered his lips to hers, kissing her lightly. This wasn't the powerful intense kiss of before, but it was a tender kiss, their eyes wide open and watching each other.

Finding no resistance, Harry kissed her again. This time, he parted his mouth a little, savoring the soft feel of her lips. Katie reached around his neck and held him close. They stayed like that for a long time, kissing, nibbling, and tasting each other as they hugged.

Eventually, the slow kissing just wasn't enough for Katie. The feelings coursing through her were overwhelming, and she wanted more. She deepened the kiss and, bringing her hands around to his front, yanked at his shirt and slid them under to feel the warm skin of his toned stomach. His pulse racing at the touch of her hands, Harry eagerly reciprocated.

Sometime later a brilliant light interrupted them. When Harry's eyes finally adjusted to the light, his face paled dramatically. It was the Ministry.

_Had the Weasleys noticed him missing and notified the Ministry?_ Harry wondered as a hand on his shoulder began to pull him away. He tried to steal a glance towards Katie, but the gruff voice snapped to keep his eyes forward. Harry complied immediately.

"Your name?" the gruff voice asked once they were a little ways away from Katie and the other member of the Ministry.

"Harry," he answered rather nervously. Maybe they weren't looking for him. But then why were they here?

"Harry what, son?"

"Harry Potter, sir."

He saw the man still for a moment and the light, which was coming from the man's wand, did a tell-tale flick towards his forehead.

"You really are Harry Potter," said the man in a much less threatening voice as he lowered his wand.

Harry let out a sigh of relief as he saw the man for the first time. The man was older, with slightly graying hair, and he wasn't nearly as ominous looking as he had appeared only moments before.

Thinking that things were over, Harry turned to head towards Katie but was stopped by a hand on his shoulders again.

"Sorry, son," the ministry official said slightly apologetically. "But you can't disturb them until after my colleague is finished questioning your friend."

"Questioning her? Why!" demanded Harry.

"It is nothing serious," the man placated. "We merely need to ensure she is here of her own free will and not under the influence of alcohol, or any other substances, before we send you back to your campsite."

"Send us back? What's this all about, sir?"

"There was a disturbance a little bit ago. Nothing to worry about," he assured Harry, "but we're asking everyone to return to their tents."

Harry stood there wondering what was happening with Katie. They'd each had a couple drinks while they were at the party, and Katie had been at the party long before him, so she could have had several before then. She hadn't seemed drunk, but would that be enough? And what would happen if they were found to have been drinking. Harry knew it was technically illegal for him to drink, but as a member of the house team he'd been invited to the older year's parties since he was eleven and had often indulged in alcohol. At the party tonight it just seemed natural to be drinking, and he hadn't given it a second thought.

Thankfully he didn't have to wait too long for Katie and the female Ministry official, an Auror from the looks of her red robe, to come back. Harry was a bit nervous as they arrived, and he could tell Katie was as well.

"Alright kids," the man next to Harry said to them. "Which campsite is yours?"

"I'm in Ganymede Seven," Katie told them.

"Um … I'm not really sure what mine is," explained Harry rather reluctantly. Would they tell the Weasleys about catching them? "It's the one for the box-ticket holders though."

The female Auror whistled at that, obviously impressed. "No worries. I could use a walk anyways. You go on ahead Mitchell. I'll escort these two back."

The walk back to Katie's tent was short and rather awkward. Harry didn't know how to act and, with the Auror walking just ahead of them, he couldn't really say what he wanted to.

"Alright, I'll wait out here while you two take a few minutes to say goodbye," the Auror said with a teasing grin as they reached the campsite and Katie pointed out which tent was hers.

They stopped just outside of Katie's tent, blushing. Each knew exactly what they wanted, but were too nervous to do anything about it.

"Uh ... Thanks for sneaking out to see me, Harry," Katie said in a soft voice, so unlike the confident and somewhat boisterous Chaser he knew she was.

She turned to go inside, but Harry snapped out his hand to her shoulders and stopped her. "Wait."

"I'll see you on the train right?" he asked.

She grinned, "Yeah, I'll ..." she began, but Harry cut her off by claiming her mouth in a kiss.

Groaning, Katie's hands grabbed onto his shirt and pulled him close as Harry opened his mouth to deepen the kiss.

"Is that …" Angelina trailed off as she opened the tent flap.

The two of them, having been standing right at the entrance to the tent, tried to spring apart immediately. In their haste to separate though, they'd forgotten just how close they were to each other and became tangled together as they fell right into the tent, one on top of the other. Angelina found herself jumping out of the way as the pair suddenly landed right in front of her.

Harry cringed and grunted in slight pain as he looked up at Angelina's bewildered, and slightly stunned, face. "Hi Angelina."

She just blinked.

"Well … I'll just be going then," Harry said with a blush as he picked himself up off the floor.

Thankfully, the girls managed to wait until Harry was out of the tent before breaking down in giggles.

"Ready?" the female Auror asked, smiling from the rather adorable antics she'd just witnessed.

"What was the disturbance?" he asked as they began walking.

"Oh, just a few idiots dressing up as Death Eaters and causing some ruckus."

Harry started as memories of Death Eaters came crashing into his consciousness.

"Don't worry," she added when she noticed his reaction. "The cowards fled as soon as the Aurors arrived."

"Hold on a mo," the Auror said as she screwed up her eyes in a strained expression as though struggling not to go to the bathroom. A second later, her hair turned from shoulder length dark brown to a short, spiky, pink. A few moments later her face changed slightly to take on a more youthful look, reminding Harry of many seventh years.

Harry gaped at her, not in amazement at what she'd done, but in who she was. This was the woman from his dreams! She was Sirius' cousin or something. Ollivander had recognized her from Harry's memories earlier that summer. She'd been the one to help the future him when fighting Death Eaters in the kitchen.

"Pretty cool, huh?" she asked after she noticed Harry had stopped walking. "I'm Tonks by the way."

"Harry," he said, intentionally leaving off his last name as he shook her hand. "That has to be cool, changing what you look like."

"It's great. Bet you wouldn't mind hiding that scar sometimes, eh?"

Harry started at that; he hadn't thought she'd known who he was. She hadn't stared at his scar or mentioned it before then. "Err. Yeah, it'd be dead useful."

"You have to be born with this, but there are some pretty clever concealing charms you can learn. You should talk to Professor Flitwick sometime. I'm sure he'd be able to help you."

Harry felt stupid; he'd never thought of that before! He had learned a concealing charm towards the end of second year from his Quidditch Captain, Oliver Wood, but that one surrounded him completely. Harry used it when he needed a bit of privacy at night. One that worked just on his scar though …

"So … is this what you really look like?" Harry asked.

"For now. Being a Metamorph is a bit different than just self-transfiguration. Every form I take is permanent. So, if I never changed again, I'd age in this body just like anyone else. Not that that's likely. I enjoy my gift."

"Oh, wow. That's pretty cool."

After that they chatted for a bit about Auror training. Tonks was still a trainee and had a year left before she began her six months of mentorship. Harry was rather surprised to find out she had only graduated from Hogwarts at the end of his second year. The first form he'd seen her in had looked years older.

At first Tonks was doing all the talking as Harry listened to her stories, but that changed as he became more comfortable in the conversation. Using what he learned from Sirius' stories about his time as an Auror, Harry felt he was able to keep up his side of the conversation fairly well. Though he didn't have his notebook with him, Harry was keeping mental notes of what Tonks was talking about. Ollivander would've been proud.

There were certain times that Harry nearly laughed while she was talking. Tonks was a character — that was about the only way to describe her. Her hands, facial expressions, as well as hair length and color were all part of how she talked. When she was really into the topic she'd talk faster and use more hand motions; her hair would change to more loud and outgoing colors and styles. When she was reporting some of the worse parts of the training — learning all the rules, laws, exceptions, and class work — her voice would become softer and less outgoing, and her hair would change to match.

For her part, Tonks was impressed with Harry's knowledge of being an Auror and of the training she'd been going though. Being an Auror had been a dream of her for years, but to be accepted into the training right out of Hogwarts had been an incredible surprise, and she was proud of it. Most of her friends had quickly grown tired of hearing about the Aurors though. Her parents, at least, still listened to her prattle on about it. They'd been good about it in the beginning; but after nearly a year of training, she could tell they weren't interested in what she was talking about outside of the fact that it involved her. Having someone new to regale with stories was fun.

"How is it you know so much about the training?"

"It's what I want to become once I graduate," replied Harry. It wasn't a lie, at least not completely. After Ollivander had told him that his father and Sirius had been Aurors, he'd been thinking of becoming and Auror just like them. Besides, it wasn't like Harry could say that his Godfather, the most wanted man in Britain, had told him about it.

"Really? That's great! I can put in a good word for you, and if I get stationed at Hogwarts this year, I can help you prepare some. Give you a few pointers."

"That'd be great!" He still wasn't certain exactly how Ollivander was going to be helping once he was back in Hogwarts again, but it couldn't hurt to have an Auror help him, too.

"What do you mean stationed at Hogwarts?" Harry asked a moment later. He'd been there for three years, and though he didn't know everything about Hogwarts, he was sure he would have noticed red-robed Aurors around. _Were they adding Aurors because of the trials?_

"Guess you haven't been up on the news, huh. Between the attacks these past few years and the curse on the Defense Against Dark Arts position – did you know I had six different teachers for that class! Anyways, the parents have been worried for a couple years now, but nothing came of it. I guess the incident with a Dementor nearly kissing a couple students was the last straw. The Head of Magical Law Enforcement was forced to resign earlier this summer. And the new one, Amelia Bones, will be stationing a couple MLE agents there. My superiors hinted that it …"

"Harry!" A voice he instantly recognized as Hermione's called out to him.

Glancing towards the entrance to the campsite, Harry's blood froze. Hermione, most the Weasleys, and two Ministry officials were looking towards him.

"Oh, bloody hell," he whispered to himself, though from her slight cough Harry was sure Tonks caught had it as well.

Taking a few steps their way, Harry mentally prepared himself for the chastisement he was about to receive. It'd been worth it, whatever the penalty. Spending nearly two hours snogging Katie was easily worth anything they could throw at him.

"See, Mr. Potter," Tonks called out a bit loudly considering she was right next to him. "I told you I'd get you back here." As she passed a few steps in front of him Harry saw that she'd changed her appearance back to the older, more mature look she'd worn earlier.

"I'm sorry if we've worried you any," she said, addressing the coming group. "I've had several people to escort back to their camps, and Mr. Potter was furthest away."

Harry blinked. He had a hard time believing this Auror he'd met only a half hour ago was covering for him! He knew from his memories of her in the future that'd she been nice to him and had risked her life for his, but she couldn't know those...

"Who are you?" a Ministry wizard with beady little eyes and a nasal voice asked.

"Auror Trainee Tonks, sir." Tonks said, respectfully addressing the man who likely outranked her by quite a few pay grades.

"No harm done," Mr. Weasley said coming up and clapping Harry on the back, a gesture he had always disliked. "It was quite easy to get separated during the chaos, while I bet there will people still strangling back when the sun comes up in a few hours."

Harry was sure a couple of the Ministry Wizards would disagree, but thankfully they didn't comment except to dismiss Tonks. He hoped she wouldn't get in trouble for helping him, but from the looks of the one's face, he figured she would.

"Tonks," Harry called out as she was walking away. "If you do get stationed at Hogwarts, make sure to say hi. We didn't get to finish talking about your training." And with that seemingly innocent comment, Harry established the beginnings of a friendship that would change his coming year dramatically.

"What was that about, mate?" Ron asked as Harry turned back around towards them.

"Nothing, we just talked on our way back here. A bit of excitement, huh?" asked Harry, fishing for information about what exactly happened while he was gone.

"Oh, come on," Hermione said in a huff as she dragged Harry and Ron away from the others. "What really happened, Harry?" she demanded once they were far enough away to not be overheard.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, trying to play innocent. Of course, Hermione would be the one who noticed.

"I mean, where were you? Everyone assumed you became separated in the chaos, and I didn't mention otherwise, but I know you weren't there. You weren't _ever_ with us."

"I went over to visit Katie," he admitted with a sheepish grin.

"You snuck out?" asked Hermione as Ron let out a quick, "Way to go!"

"I wouldn't say snuck out really ... It's more like I just didn't mention where I was going to anyone."

"In the middle of the night after we'd already gone to bed?" she pressed.

"Well ... We did go to bed pretty early," he tried to reason.

"But you snuck out!"

He just rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, Hermione, relax a little. It's not like it's the first time one of us has snuck out. We've done it plenty of times at school."

"With the Tornados trading for Mathis, think they can take Puddlemere this year?" Harry asked as he turned toward Ron, hoping Hermione would get the point and drop it.

"Puddlemere, are you kidding? The Tornados may've traded for Mathis, but Puddlemere has that Russian bird and Alstead for beaters, and they'll take care of her. That'll leave most the pressure on the other two chasers just like last year." Though Harry didn't agree with his friend's assessment, he let it slide for now thankful just to be out of Hermione's glare.

"Sorry for caring enough to worry!"

"I still can't believe Bulgaria won!" Ron complained. "I know Krum is great, but the Irish were favored to win."

"At least you didn't bet on it like Fred and George," Harry commented absently. A slight pang hit him in the gut as Hermione walked quickly back to the rest of the group. He really didn't care that he snuck away from the Weasleys, seeing Katie had been well worth any trouble he might get in from them. But Hermione had worried about him, and somewhat surprisingly, he felt guilty for that. Only a few days ago he had been thinking of how he could make things up for last year … And now he'd already gone and messed things up even more. Shaking the thought away, Harry turned back to Ron. "Can you imagine what your mum will say when she finds out they lost everything though?"

Even Ron, who rarely showed any compassion for his older brothers, cringed in sympathy.  
--

After showering, Katie laid down on her bed frustrated with herself. As mortifying as it had been to be questioned by that Auror about their activities, she couldn't help but feel a bit of gratitude at being interrupted. She'd known they were going too fast, but she couldn't stop it. She couldn't let things go that far again. That she knew. She wasn't like those other girls ... A bit of kissing was alright, maybe some light petting too, but that was it. She'd just have to draw the line there. Harry would understand, she was sure of it. He was probably thinking that they were moving too fast as well, but being too nice to say anything. Now if only she could only convince herself to slow down when it mattered …

The feeling of his lips, of his body pressed against hers, had been amazing. The power she glimpsed in those kisses and the way her body responded was intoxicating. Even just thinking about it now was causing her body to tingle again. Grabbing a pillow she hugged it to her chest as she tried to force herself to suppress those feelings. _Oh, why couldn't her body just obey her mind!_  
--

Harry couldn't help but smile as he looked into the mirror and stared at the barely recognizable person in it. He'd grown a lot since last year. Even Katie had noticed early in the summer. The new clothes looked good on him, and the lack of glasses changed his facial appearance a bit. His muscles looked slightly more defined than he remembered. Harry doubted he'd even have huge muscles like a few of the older years he knew, but he was fit from all the running and years of Quidditch — it may not be the hardest sport in the world, but no one was going to tell him that straining and pushing yourself to, and often beyond, your limits for multiple hours nearly every day for three years was easy — no one that actually played sports anyways. He'd heard more than a few whispered comments from some of the other kids about how easy Quidditch was: just sitting on a broom all day they would say. Yet he never remembered seeing a single one of them out on the field, even during the inter-house pickup games.

What really caught his eye weren't the physical changes though. The boy, no — young man — after spending nearly two hours snogging and feeling up Katie, Harry wasn't going to consider himself merely a boy again.

There was more confidence in how he held himself now that hadn't been there last year, when he'd been a lowly third year. He was looking himself in the eye now and wore a smile that he'd rarely worsen before. It was kind of difficult to see that person in the mirror and realize it really was him. Something was changing; part of it was Katie's doing he knew, but he'd like to think that he'd matured this summer, as well.

"Well?" Ron asked eagerly, surprising Harry who, lost in his own thoughts, hadn't seen him come in.

"What?"

"How was it?" he nearly demanded from him.

Letting a grin fall onto his face, Harry turned towards his friend, "Bloody Brilliant!"

Ron grinned back. "I knew it! Now come on, don't keep me waiting!"

With only a couple hours left until sunrise, it wasn't really worth going back to sleep. What Harry really wanted to do was go snog Katie again! Several of the Weasleys were up and about. It'd be difficult to sneak out, but he was still certain he could do it. He doubted he'd really have time for that now though, so instead they took a seat on their beds and talked. Katie, of course, was the main topic of conversation, and Harry tried to do his best to describe exactly what happened. After a rather pitiful explanation that didn't begin to do it justice, he finally settled on telling Ron he'd just have to find a girl to snog himself to understand. The conversation then changed from what happened tonight to everything that had gone on between he and Katie this summer and how he landed himself such a hot bird.

Harry was still rather confused about that part of their relationship — or rather how in they even came to have a relationship at all — and was of little help. He told Ron everything that happened between them during the summer and they both decided girls were just too confusing to figure out. Instead, they tried to narrow down a list of girls for Ron, mostly centering on the older years with the largest chests. Though, a few from their own year did make the cut. Hannah Abbott had grown quite a bit last year, and even Gryffindor's own Lavender Brown had been filling out her top quite nicely when they'd left last year. The topic of conversation instantly changed from girls to the coming school year when Hermione and Ginny, having also decided it wasn't worth going to sleep, came in.

Hiding the disappointment of not getting to browse through all the shops and activities later that morning, Harry helped with taking down their magically enlarged tent. The box-ticket holders had their own port-keys back, so they didn't have to wait in the ever-lengthening line. Katie, Angelina, and Alicia's campsite wasn't actually scheduled to leave for another three days. But Harry wasn't sure if they'd be staying that long. Thankfully, living nearby meant they could walk to the Floo and head home whenever they wanted.

When the Weasleys, with Hermione and Harry in tow, arrived at the Burrow the next morning, they were all surprised to see Hermione's family was already there waiting for her. She hugged them eagerly and genuinely seemed pleased to see them, but Harry could tell that her smile was a little forced. He understood and actually commiserated with her; leaving his friends and the Wizarding world each summer was one of the hardest parts of the year. He never really thought about it before, but in a way it was nearly as bad for Hermione. While she normally had a great summer with her family, she had to leave her friends at the beginning of every summer and then leave the family she loved at the end.

Harry, on the other hand, never regretted leaving the Dursley's. This year was a bit different than any other, though, as he finally understood what it was like to leave a 'family' behind. Mr. Ollivander had told him they'd continue his lessons even while he was at Hogwarts, but Harry doubted he'd bring Sirius along. He was the most wanted criminal in Britain after all.  
--

Time, as it has a habit of doing, moved on. Without Hermione there things were actually a bit boring. Though Ron was his friend, Harry could only take so much talk about Quidditch, chess games, or flying. The stay at the Weasley's was just cementing the idea that he wasn't the same as he had been before. When he stayed there for a couple weeks after his first year, he'd been fine with doing nothing. Now, though, Harry wanted to do something — whether it was to study, talk, explore, or even read one of Ollivander's books on history. He didn't think he was bored enough to read from his school history text, but Ollivander's ones were actually interesting. Snog! That was also something he desperately wanted to do again, and soon. In short, Harry missed the freedom he'd felt all summer. Surprisingly, his morning runs with Bill or Charlie were actually becoming the highlights of his day as nothing else interesting really happened.

That was, at least, for the first four days back. On the fifth day, he and Charlie walked into the kitchen for a drink after finishing their run when they head Bagman's unmistakable deep voice. The only reason Harry could think of for Bagman to stop by was to collect money his winnings from the twins. No one had wanted to mention that little fact to Mrs. Weasley yet.

"Oh, horse posh, Arthur. Your lads were old enough to know what they were doing. I would have paid had they won. It's just how these things work. Besides, they're young and in Hogwarts. It's not like they actually need the money."

"Was my pleasure," Bagman continued after Mr. Weasley said something they couldn't hear. "Besides, it was a big hit having all those VIPs meet the Potter boy! Great work you did Arthur. Minister was right pleased. Several weren't his biggest fans, but with Potter supporting him, Fudge thinks he can gain some serious support when newest bill goes before the Wizengamot next month. You really got yourself noticed with that. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if there was a little something heading your way after it passes, if you know what I mean."

Harry couldn't help but gasp when he heard that. Part of him felt betrayed by Mr. Weasley. He hated that he was known as the boy-who-lived and using it for his own gain was something he imagined the Dursleys and Malfoy would do. It was definitely not something he'd do, nor something he'd thought the Weasleys would ever do. On the other hand, Harry had had a great time at the World Cup and the only reason he'd gone at all was because of the Weasleys … Was it really so bad that Mr. Weasley used his name? It's not like anyone was really hurt because of it.

"Let's get out of here," whispered Ginny, who had been eating breakfast when he and Charlie had come in. Lost in thought, Harry merely nodded. Thankfully, Ginny and Charlie didn't feel the need to bring it up as they all walked out the backdoor.


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: I know Professor Vector is the Arithmancy instructor, but I'm making her both the Arithmancy and Ancient Runes professor, as there doesn't seem to actually be a runes instructor.  
A huge hug and applause goes out to my beta reader, Lisa, who has taken everything I've written and actually made it readable! For those of you who remember my writing in the beginning, you know how great of a job she's done.  
--

"Harry!" was the first thing he heard as he stepped out of the Floo at the Leaky Cauldron. Flooing was an experience that would never be among his favorites, even though he had become better at it this summer. Thanks to following Ollivander's advice about trusting magic, he longer fell flat on his face at least.

Turning slowly to keep his balance, he saw Hermione at one of the tables with her parents. Harry had hoped he'd have a bit of time to head to Ollivander's before meeting the Grangers, but he hadn't counted on the last-minute Weasley madness with getting ready.

"Hermione," said Harry as she engulfed him in a hug. "It's good to see you, too." And he meant it. The past week at the Weasleys without her had nearly been more than he could handle. Mrs. Weasley meant well, he knew, but it was just too much, and it felt like he was being smothered at times. Ron, too, had been getting on his nerves, and that bothered him. Ron has always been a good friend. But Harry had changed this summer, and Ron was still the same as ever.

The Weasleys soon arrived behind him, and Harry spent a few minutes talking with Mr. and Mrs. Granger while they got their rooms. Once they had everything settled in their rooms, Harry, Hermione, and Ron said goodbye to her parents and set off to get their supplies.

The experience of shopping in Diagon Alley was nothing special to Harry, as he spent much of the last two summers there. To Ron and Hermione, though, this was still a rare experience, and he couldn't help but laugh and be caught up by their enthusiasm.

"Where are you going, Harry?" Hermione asked later that afternoon as she looked up from the book she was reading. After finishing up with their shopping lists, they'd all met back up at The Leaky Cauldron for a late lunch.

"I was just going to visit Ollivander for a few minutes to thank him for all the help this summer," Harry replied. He'd thought Hermione would be too engrossed in the book she was reading to even notice he was gone.

"Oh, can I come with you? I really wanted to ask him about some of the things you told me. Several rules on potion making go against everything our school books have suggested, but they obviously worked. I was also very intrigued by a few of the history books as well as the biographies and journals you mentioned."

Harry didn't see why not, as Ollivander never seemed to mind Katie visiting, and he doubted he'd mind Hermione. "Sure, what about you, mate?"

Ron nodded while wolfing down a last bit of dinner, which sparked a few comments from Hermione about his manners. After that they hurried through the short walk to Ollivander's. Once they entered Ollivander's, he saw something he hadn't counted on: Ollivander was busy with a group of clients.

Harry recognized a few of the people. Mr. Prater was an older gentleman with balding, grey hair who had a shop in Diagon Alley selling obscure magical items. He'd first seen Mrs. Daniels last summer and knew she regularly dealt with several merchants in the alley, though he wasn't sure what she did exactly. Mr. Pyrrus was another older man that Harry had seen speaking with Ollivander a couple times when he'd come in during the summer, but he had never properly met him.

Miss Reanna was someone who was hard to miss. She was taller than most men, though nowhere near as tall as Hagrid, and she was probably one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. She had long blonde hair, blue eyes, flawless skin, and a perfect figure. Katie had not-so-kindly elbowed him when he had stared at her earlier in the summer, and he had learned not to do it again. She was a foreigner, though Harry couldn't place where she was from, and Harry would have expected her to leave after the World Cup with the rest of the Quidditch fans.

Ron muttered in pain, and Harry turned in just in time to see him rubbing his side. He smirked. Apparently Ron had made the same mistake of staring as Harry had earlier in the summer.

There was also a muscular middle-aged man with dark hair and broad shoulders who Harry didn't know. Standing close to him was a younger man who was probably only a few years out of Hogwarts. He was dressed in rather tattered clothing — something close to what Harry would have worn before this summer.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, do come in," said Ollivander. "We were just finishing up here and will be but a few minutes more."

Harry took his friends into the back room of the store where he'd spent most his time during the summer. Hermione was interested in a few of the books he mentioned, so he took a couple off the shelves to show her. She was interested in several of the books, but one of the biographies and another book on the cultural history of the wizarding world were her favorites. He decided to ask Ollivander if she could borrow them before they left.

Harry was showing Ron a few of the cooler magical items around the place when Ollivander came in followed by the group he'd been speaking with before. He called Harry over and officially introduced him to everyone. The dark-haired man was named Edmund, and he worked as a consultant in Brittan for an international firm. Harry had thought that his uncle was stiff, but this man seemed to take the stereotypical British Gentleman to new levels.

Edmund's son, Raseir, was actually older than Harry had originally thought; he had graduated Hogwarts seven years before. Raseir's accent was odd; you could tell he was definitely British, but there was something else there that Harry couldn't place. Ollivander had dealt with the young man regularly over the past few years to retrieve several of the rarer components for his wands. He was also one of the reasons they were all meeting here today. Apparently, Raseir was having an enchantment done that required the use of an Alchemist, as well as several other types of craftsmen.

After Raseir left to look at something else in the shop, Ollivander came over and carefully handed him a metal circle that was rather heavy for its small size. The gold and silver twined circle — which was the size of a large ring — was heavily enruned, and Harry could almost feel a tingling of magic just by holding it.

"Place it on your wand before you leave for Hogwarts," Ollivander told him. "Ensure that you keep your wand and your harness with you at all times tomorrow. And, that includes when you fall asleep. Understood?"

Harry was no longer surprised by the serious tone Ollivander took with him and just nodded. The old man was rather complex and could change from a kind grandfather to a serious teacher in a split second. Harry always found the way people in his life could change their moods so effectively to be rather disconcerting. If he was happy, angry, or sullen, he generally stayed that way for a while — generally until a reason to change occurred. But so many others around him seemed to just be able to hit a switch and change at will. It was just one more reason why he felt so handicapped and inferior sometimes.

Then Ollivander introduced to him to Trenton Pyrrus. He was the enchanter and a very old and good friend of the wand maker. It turned out that Mr. Pyrrus was actually one of the men Ollivander had hunted the Chimera with. When Harry showed the man his wand holster, the man told a rather amusing — and hopefully exaggerated — story about the three full days of stalking the creature, four hours of preparation, ten minutes of chaos, and two weeks in the hospital. Having spent so much time in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, Harry tended to believe that portion of the story.

Taking a look around, Harry found Ollivander with Hermione while Ron was seemingly listening to Raseir talk about some object he had in his hands. Before he could go over to them, however, Reanna and Mrs. Daniels came over.

Jennifer Daniels was probably somewhere near the age of his Aunt Petunia and rather normal-looking when compared to the blonde next to her. Probably only a little taller than Hermione and just a tad shorter than himself, she had long black hair, an angular face, and turned out to be what was known as an infuser. Harry didn't have a clue what that meant at first, but he learned after talking with her a bit. Infusing took the natural magic available all around and "infused" it into any item capable of receiving and holding the magic — in this case, a rare diamond.

Reanna was a manipulator. He laughed at that at first, but it seemed that the wizarding world had a slightly different meaning for manipulator than the Muggle world did. Reanna could manipulate the mind. One moment she looked like a blue-eyed goddess, the next she was a dirty, old hag, and a few moments after that she disappeared completely and in her place was a small tree. When she changed back, Harry just stared at her in shock. It wasn't transfiguration — or even an illusion — which he could at least understand. To Jennifer and to everyone else in the room, she had continued to look the same. It was only Harry who saw anything different.

It was amazing to learn all about their jobs, and Harry ended up having a great time talking with them. Admittedly, he was learning quite a bit today, but this visit was turning out a lot different than he expected. In the beginning of summer, Ollivander kept his work completely separate from Harry, sending him to the backroom any time someone came in. After the ritual earlier in the summer, he did start involving Harry in the on goings of the shop a bit more. Never before was it to such an extent though.

Ollivander and Edmund came back over to talk with Reanna again, so Harry made himself scarce and went to check on his friends.

"You have a magical grade diamond?" he heard Hermione ask as he walked over to where she was talking with Raseir. "It must have taking a long time to save up enough to buy it."

"Not really," Raseir replied with a shrug. "If you think of other magic that would be helpful, let me know. I've got a few more with me."

"You have more?" she asked, clearly amazed that the vagabond looking man could have such expensive items. Even with her parents successful practice, it would take a good portion of their entire year's profit to buy a single crystal that size.

"How?"

"I don't buy them from the Ministry," Raseir explained. "I buy them from the source. It's cheaper that way."

"What do you mean the source? The International Confederation clearly states that all magical grade gemstones may only be sold after receiving proper approval by the local Ministry."

"Actually, you can buy them from the corrupt officials for slightly more, but without the whole fuss of being approved. That's beside the point, though. You've forgotten that the world is a lot bigger than just the International Confederation. That one," he said, gesturing to the diamond in her hand, "is from the mines in North East Russia — Yakutsk to be precise. You'd be amazed at what type of deals you can get by heading up there during the dead of winter."

"Bloody Hell," said Ron, having apparently finished his talk with Mr. Pyrrus. "Scotland is bad enough in the winter. I don't even want to imagine heading that far north. It can't be safe."

"Not really, no," agreed Raseir. No one really wanted to travel through their -50 degree winter temperatures. "The spring and summer are when traders normally visit. I learned early on, though, that if you wish to succeed and make money, you need to do something others won't."

Ron seemed to forget all about his aversion to cold after the comment about making money and began questioning Raseir more thoroughly on the selling he did and how much he could make.

"I don't sell many of my nicer items for Galleons, not normally at least. And it's not about the money per se; I generally just trade one item for another, but I almost always get a better deal than what I started with. I also keep a lot of rare and expensive items on hand as payments for other services like now," he told them while gesturing towards the other side of the room where Ollivander stood with his father and the others.

"As for where and what," Raseir added, "I trade with the wizards of Central and South America for the magical glass from the volcanoes around there and for some rare spices. Often I'll also have specific requests for items from someone I know. Ollivander, for example, has use for a few of the rarer wood and feathers from the area. I generally don't trade much else there though, as Brazil is part of the ICW."

"I also make a couple other little stops around the continent," he said a moment later. "But the next areas I regularly deal with are the deserts of the Sahara and Arabia. There I trade for cloth and other linens that are enchanted to keep the wearer comfortable regardless of the temperature — no one is as good at those charms as those local tribes. With a friend's help I trade a bit of everything in Asia for various items, but mostly for the rare Silver Silk they're famous for, or anything else that piques my curiosity. Depending on how my deals have gone and the time of the year, I sometimes head towards the islands of the South Pacific, as well as Australia and New Zealand before heading back up to the north to trade for more diamonds and ore."

"You don't do any trading here?" Hermione asked while Harry was stunned silent by the casual mention of so many magical places he barely knew existed. He wondered what it would be like to visit them. This summer he'd seen a bit of magical Brittan that he never knew existed, and now he wanted to see the rest of the world, as well.

"Europe is far too stuck on Galleons for my taste. I prefer trading directly and leaving the Ministries and Goblins out of it. On a rare occasion, I'll sell some of my nicer items here, but mostly it's just my lesser enchanted clothes, spices, and other miscellaneous things."

"Still," Edmund added, having come over after finishing his conversation with Ollivander, "your own people deserve some of your nicer wares as well. Europe's trade with the more obscure corners of the world is quite rare, and it would be good of you to help. I know a few honest shop keepers with places in the major cities throughout the Confederation and would be willing to throw in a good word to them about you."

'_His own people_.' Raseir knew his father didn't mean it as an insult to anyone else. He was just a patriot who truly believed in the need to help his own country first and foremost. It wasn't that Raseir disliked the country he'd been born and raised in; he just wasn't so sure he preferred it all that much compared the others he often visited. In fact, he wasn't so sure his people were even near the top of that list.

"Of course, father," Raseir said needlessly. "I'm not about to trade with the Ministry, but I'd appreciate your help with the shops." Raseir waited for the reprimand and the speech about the usefulness of the Ministry that he had heard so many times over the years, but it never came. This was a testament of his father's own distrust of them. This should have made him feel better, as his father was finally starting to show some of the same distrust for the Ministry that Raseir had known for several years now, it did not though. Instead, it made him feel even worse somehow.

"Very well, I will speak to them. I have another appointment and must be leaving. Do not forget that your mother expects you for dinner tonight."

Raseir left for a moment to see his father off. Ron, at having heard the mention of food, decided they should go for some ice cream before heading back to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry was about to comment that he'd only just eaten when he realized that they'd been there for well over an hour already.

--

"Well, what do you think?" Ollivander asked after watching the three students leave.

"He has potential, that much is certain. Even from the passive scans I performed, it was obvious. This may just be possible," Trenton Pyrrus replied.

"I am still uncertain," Jennifer Daniels told the group.

"Our once great society has stagnated and corrupted itself into this cesspool of decadence and laziness," Ollivander said rather heatedly. "For far too long have we sat on the sidelines, watching decade after decade as the younger generations chose what was easy over what was right; greed over integrity. Now we have a method to make the changes we have long known needed to be made. Who else do we turn to but ourselves?"

"There are other ways."

"It is not only a few laws that need changing," Warren Prater added. "You cannot expect a system that thrives on greed and corruption to correct itself so easily. It was an interesting concept, but the Confederation has failed. It needs reforming."

"Reforming — or overthrowing?"

"Do you think we really want that?" Reanna asked her long-time friend. "But you have seen the changes just as we. You must realize where our society is heading."

"How does using children make us any different than the others?" Jennifer retorted. "I will not compromise the fundamental tenants of my principles for any reason. There must be another way."

"We won't," assured Ollivander. "There is no need to lie to or manipulate Mr. Potter. He sought me out to change the future. And change the future he will — with, or without our help."

"I like the brunette," Raseir added, changing the topic. There was no need for an argument over this at the moment. "She's as sharp as they come with an intuitive genius that can't be taught."

"Really?" Reanna asked incredulously. "I found her idealism and naiveté annoying. She could be a problem."

"No," disagreed Raseir. "She'll be a great asset. Once she sees the truth — sees this world for what it has become — she'll loose that naiveté, and we will be there for her. We need to start with her soon, though. I say we have her visit with Harry."

"It's not worth the risk. It'd be too dangerous to bring her in now."

"Mr. Potter trusts her implicitly, and I do not believe that trust is misplaced," Ollivander added. "She will come to us of her own volition. Her curiosity and thirst for knowledge will allow nothing else."

--

With everything already packed and ready from the day before, leaving from The Leaky Cauldron the next morning went smoothly, and rather amazingly, they all arrived at Platform 9 3/4s with plenty of time to spare. Harry couldn't explain how happy he was to be returning. He'd miss Sirius, Ollivander, and the freedom he had this summer, but seeing all his school friends again just felt right.

"Mr. Potter."

"Professor Vector?" asked Harry, as he turned to see the Ancient Runes and Arithmancy professor standing near the front of the train. He'd seen her in the Great Hall many times, but he had never really talked to her before now or even paid much attention.

Harry didn't know how old the brunette was exactly, but it was nowhere near as old as Professors McGonagall or Flitwick — though that wasn't hard to beat. He knew she'd been at Hogwarts from at least their first year, but Harry figured she couldn't have been teaching for all that long before and wondered if her classes would be any different form the normal.

He actually hoped they would. After having been taught by Ollivander during the summer, Harry wasn't particularly impressed with the way several of his classes were. McGonagall and Flitwick were good, if a bit bland, and Professor Sprout knew her green houses well. But some of the others like Snape, Binns, and Trelawney, were mostly worthless.

"Professor!" Hermione exclaimed a little breathlessly as she, too, saw the young professor.

"Did you have a good summer, Hermione?" she asked as she sent a smile towards one of her favorite students.

"Oh, yes! We traveled the Mediterranean. It was absolutely beautiful, and I learned so much. I can't wait to tell you about what I saw there."

"I'd love to hear about it; however, it will have to wait till later," she said with a small smile before turning back to Harry. "Mr. Potter, you'll need to make your way to the first cart once the train gets underway. I'll be administering your placement examination."

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll be there."

Seeing his friends and classmates again was a lot of fun for Harry, and his new social skills were quite handy in catching up with all that they'd done during the summer. He was glad to see quite a few people were reacting well to his friendlier persona. More than a few had also commented on his new looks — though whether they were talking about his lack of glasses or new clothes, Harry wasn't sure.

Hermione's roommate Parvati, along with her sister Padma, came by to talk with her and see how the summer had gone. The stress from everything that had happened with Hermione last year had hurt the friendships between her and her dormmates. And though things had actually improved some during the latter part of the year, their friendship had still been slightly strained at the end. The time away seemed to have helped cool any anger though, and Harry was happy they seemed to be getting along again.

Hannah Abbott had abandoned her pigtails during the summer and now showed off her long silky blonde hair. She had arrived with her best friend, Susan Bones, and he was amazed to see just how well the red-headed Hufflepuff had developed over the summer. Harry felt a bit guilty at having taken a couple glances towards her chest, and forcefully reminded himself that he was with Katie. Thankfully his dormmates Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan arrived shortly afterwards and they all enjoyed a few minutes of chatting before he spotted Katie and her family. Excusing himself, Harry headed over to them.

Mr. Bell wasn't with them, as he was working today, but Katie, her little sister, Alexia, and Mrs. Bell were all just off to the right of the entrance. Though Mrs. Bell was a witch and Alexia knew magic existed, the family hadn't known she was magical until her invitation to Hogwarts arrived earlier in the summer. Because of that, she'd never been to the platform to see Katie off before and was eagerly taking it all in. Harry couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm and remembered his own awe at arriving into the magical world only four years before.

After a hug from Mrs. Bell, who made sure to ask Harry to watch out for her little girl, Katie quickly went off to meet up with Fred and George. Alexia had been pestering Katie with questions about Hogwarts since she came back from her camp out at World Cup a few days before, and she desperately wanted a break. With all the people around, they didn't kiss or do anything other than talk with the twins, which was a slight disappointment to Harry.

After talking for a few minutes though, they all boarded the train, and Harry made his way to the front and found Professor Vector was already there waiting for him, reading _Witch Weekly._ He wasn't sure how many witches read that magazine, but offhandedly wondered if she had believed in Lockhart like so many other witches. Maybe that was how the fake had gotten his job — women.

The compartment was setup a bit differently than normal. On the right side was the regular bench setup, but the left bench had been removed and in its place was a typical student's desk and chair.

"Come in, Mr. Potter," said the professor as she sat down her magazine.

The door slid closed behind him, and Harry was surprised when all the noise instantly disappeared.

"A simple privacy ward to prevent disruptions," she explained. "This compartment has also been cushioned to absorb much of the vibrations from the train."

Harry nodded and took a seat at the desk. A surprisingly thick exam was waiting on the desk for him, and he looked at it with growing trepidation. He learned a lot about Ancient Runes during the summer and had felt confident about taking the exam — until now at least.

A soft laugh interrupted his thoughts, and Harry glanced up to see his, hopefully, new teacher smiling at him.

"The exam isn't going to bite," she teased. "I also don't expect you to know everything in there perfectly. The purpose of today's examination is to prove that you already know the basics and have put in the extra effort to learn it on your own during summer. Your commitment to the subject is more important than memorization of details at the moment."

Feeling a lot more confident again, Harry picked up the stack of parchment and began to work his way through it. The test was surprisingly easy and difficult at the same time. Some of the sections he knew extremely well and had no problems answering. A few others were difficult, but he felt he managed them well enough. There were, however, two sections that really threw him off. No matter how hard he wracked his brain, he couldn't figure them out. One excruciating piece of parchment was left nearly completely blank. A second piece was filled with vague sprawling paragraphs where he tried to come up with logical answers from what he knew about runes in general. Needless to say, he wasn't feeling all that confident by the time he finally put down his quill.

After handing the exam to Professor Vector, Harry headed off in search of his friends. Katie was in a compartment with a couple of her friends, but he decided to check in with Hermione and Ron first. They were only a few doors away, and he found a few additions to the compartment this year. Neville, who had sat with them from time to time before, Ginny, and a shorter blonde-hair girl named Luna. While most the others nodded or said hello to him, Ron, surprisingly, did not and just continued to glare out the window. Hermione answered Harry's unasked question with a shake of her head, and mouthed the word 'Malfoy.' Apparently he'd missed one of the biannual Malfoy train confrontations, and without him being there to draw Malfoy's attention, the spineless snake must've concentrated on his red-headed friend.

The rest of the train ride went fairly well. Hermione started in on questions about his exam, and he tried to keep things optimistic while still showing his concern for the few parts he just didn't remember. Luna and Ginny were both going to be taking Ancient Runes this year as well, so they had a bit of fun talking about the class. It was actually all the boring talk about runes that snapped Ron out of his funk, and Harry picked up on something that Hermione apparently didn't. Ron had not eating any candy.

The candy lady, as they liked to call her, would've done her rounds long before Harry finished with his exam, and he doubted Ron had enough to buy any for himself. Faking a bit of hunger, he asked Ron if he could track down the lady and grab some snacks for the compartment. In truth, Harry really was looking forward to eating them. Ever since his first train ride to Hogwarts, the feasting of chocolate had become something of a tradition. Ron's mood was back to normal by the time he returned — the encounter with Malfoy obviously forgotten — and the group spent the next half-hour having fun before Harry decided to take a trip to visit Katie and see how things were with her.

It'd been a week since he'd really spent any real time with her, and he was looking forward to it. Angelina and Lee were there with her this time, along with a couple friends that Harry had seen around but never met before. He had a good time chatting with them all and was once again amazed to find himself in the middle of the conversation. It really was a noticeable difference, as he'd never even talked with a couple of the girls, and before this summer, he would have just sat there and listened silently as the others talked amongst themselves.

He stayed there with Katie for the rest of the trip and only headed back to his compartment to grab his trunk as the Hogwarts Express began to slow down. Quite a few people stopped by to talk, a few for Harry, but generally fifth or sixth years to talk to Katie or one of her friends. Katie had taken his hand in hers nearly as soon as he sat down, and she pretty much kept it in hers the entire time. Harry was amazed by how such a small act could seem so monumental. They'd snogged plenty that night at the World Cup, and it'd been great, but somehow such a simple thing as holding her hand was nearly as good.

From the looks that were being sent his way by everyone stopping by for a visit, Harry knew it'd been noticed. He was sure the rumor would be all over the train before they ever arrived at Hogwarts. And, from the jealous looks sent his way by several of the guys, not everyone was exactly happy about it. Surprisingly though, it didn't bother Harry at all. It was quite the opposite really, as their jealously made him feel good about himself. He still wasn't sure how exactly it had happened, but somehow he'd managed to — as Ron would say — bag a bloody, hot bird.

The rumbling of thunder and the splattering of rain greeted them as they finally exited the train. Yells and screams from the first years, and probably a few of the older years as well, echoed all around the Hogsmeade station.

Chaos. Welcome to Hogwarts.

Harry tried to get over to Hagrid, but with all the students pushing the opposite way, he settled with yelling a greeting instead. He could only just make out one of Hagrid's giant arms waving back towards him before he was engulfed in the crowd.

Ron and Hermione somehow managed to save one of the horseless carriages for their group, and Harry eagerly joined them. The chaos of Hogwarts was always fun. The pelting rain, on the other hand, he could do without.

The wind picked up as the carriages slowly rolled through the sweeping path to Hogwarts, swaying this way and that so hard that it was nearly impossible for him not to bump into his friends. Once the carriage arrived, they all made a mad dash for Hogwarts' massive front doors and safety from the rain.

Everyone was thoroughly wet from even that short of a run, but that didn't dampen his spirits any.

Harry was finally home!

There was some sort of hold up trying to get into the Great Hall, and a rumor quickly circulated that Filch was making everyone dry off before entering. After only a few minutes of waiting, they were able to slowly enter the hall, and Harry understood the real reason as to why it'd taken so long. The Great Hall was now … well. Great. It was at least four or five times larger than its normal size, and Harry was suddenly hit with violent flashes of his memory.

He'd seen this giant hall before, and if the feeling he was getting from it was anything to go by it, it wasn't good. Glancing over at Hermione's pale face, Harry realized she, too, had seen this before, and she also didn't like whatever she remembered of it. Ron, thankfully, was too busy gawking at the new hall to notice the look they shared. The little bit of the memories he'd seen during the summer had largely been horrible. Now things in them were already started to come true … Harry didn't know what it meant exactly, but whatever it was — it wasn't good.

The lack of a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was noticed almost immediately once they were all settled. Harry had not yet had a defense professor who lasted more than a year. And, if rumor were to be believed, there hadn't been one single defense professor to return back to Hogwarts the next year in over six years. Professor Lupin, the only decent defense teacher he had so far, was forced to resign last year thanks to _Snape's _big mouth_._

The sorting was actually pretty interesting to Harry. For a variety of reasons, he hadn't actually seen the ones for his second or third year, so this was the first he would witness since his own sorting.

Small, tiny, midget-like girls and boys were sent up to the three legged stool and sorted into one of the four houses. Harry could guess which ones came from families with older witches or wizards, as they generally weren't quite as scared as the others. By the time it finished, Gryffindor had gained 11 new students; Hufflepuff 14; Ravenclaw, 12; and Slytherin, 9.

The feast itself was a very welcome distraction. Chocolate and snacks held him over on the train ride, but it'd still been a long day, and he was hungry. The sheer amount of choices available always amazed him, and Harry took his fair share of nearly anything that looked delicious. The food was a great as always ,and the only thing that took away from his pleasure was Hermione's comments about the slavery of house elves.

Thanks to living with the Dursleys for so many years, Harry understood all about being used to clean, cook, and generally take care of people that treated you horribly. He could see why Hermione was angry, but he had a hard time picturing Dumbledore and McGonagall — the two people in charge of Hogwarts and most likely the elves — of acting like the Dursleys. Either way, the food was already cooked, and leaving it would only waste all their efforts. Even with the Dursleys, Harry would rather they eat his meals than to just leave all the food he spent time making.

Once almost everyone had finished eating and the volume of the great hall rose, Dumbledore stood and addressed the students.

"As you may have noticed," said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all, "the Great Hall has been expanded dramatically. This is due to an international event that will be starting in a week's time, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of our time and energy. However, I am quite certain that it will be an enjoyable experience for all. I take great pleasure in announcing that this year, Hogwarts …"

Whatever else Dumbledore was going to say was cut off as the doors to the Great Hall burst open.

A man shrouded in a black cloak stood at the entrance way. Harry had a very bad feeling about him. There was nothing specific from his memories, but he had a foreboding feeling that left him unnerved. The man's twisted and weathered face was unlike anything he'd ever seen before, yet at the same time it was chillingly familiar.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Dumbledore said brightly once the man reached the head table. "May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody."

Moody. Harry had a name for the man, now if only he knew why he felt like he did.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore said after clearing his throat to gain everyone's attention, "Hogwarts is to have the honor of hosting a very exciting international event this year, an event that has not been held in over two centuries. Several of the largest schools of witchcraft and wizardry will be joining us this year; Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Durmstrang Institute for Magical Learning, The Gaia Institute, Salem's Magical Academy, and the Victoria school of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"It is our hope," Dumbledore continued, "that by hosting these fines educational centers here at Hogwarts, you will be able to establish friendships that will last throughout your life and help usher in a new age of international cooperation and respect."

"The schools will be arriving tomorrow evening and will be staying with us for the remainder of the year. I know how important it is for you to all be alert and rested for your lessons tomorrow, so I shall now let you leave for your dormitories."

Dumbledore sat down again, and there was a great deal of noise as everyone got to their feet and swarmed out of the hall.

"Five schools. We're going to have five more schools here. I mean, where are they going to fit?" Ron asked once they made it back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Well, the castle is huge, mate. There's loads of empty space," Harry replied.

"Yeah, but enough for five extra schools? Even if they aren't all as large as Hogwarts, that's still a lot of extra people."

"At its height, Hogwarts housed more than two thousand witches and wizards," said Hermione. "I mean, really, did you think they needed this huge of a castle for three hundred students? Hogwarts is still recovering from its lowest enrollment ever — during the height of the last war. And if either of you would read _Hogwarts, A History_, I wouldn't have to explain this to you."

"Why would we bother reading it?" Ron asked. "You already have it memorized."

"What do you know about the other schools?" Harry asked her quickly, hoping to prevent the beginnings of another row.

"Well, Beauxbatons is in France, of course. I visited it with my parents during our summer vacation after second year. It's a beautiful school, and they are known to have an excellent Charms program — Scholar Fallon is well known throughout the world for her work."

"The Gaia Institute is in Brazil; it's located inside the Pedra da Gávea of Rio de Janeiro. They're best known for their teachings of nature-based magic. Basically, they work with nature to achieve the end required rather than trying to manipulate it. Instead of levitating an object, they might add wings to it. Or, instead of conjuring a chain, they'd probably prefer to grow a vine."

"Salem Magical Institute is located in North East America," Hermione continued, talking over Ron who tried to make some comment about the Brazilians. "I've read a few contradictory books about them. From what I can infer though, there are a few competing schools of thought for how to use magic. Relatively speaking, it's a rather new school at less than two hundred years old, and they — like much of America — are still trying to work out their own niche in the magical world."

"Durmstrang was originally founded somewhere in the Monastic state of the Teutonic Knights, near modern day Estonia. The exact location has been kept secret due to security concerns as there have been a few big uproars in parts of the magical community due of their use of blood magic and rituals. That the location is so closely guarded is one of the main reasons it's survived so far."

"They're Barbarians!" Ron told them quite heatedly. "The French are bad enough, but I can't believe Dumbledore invited them. And the Brazilians are nearly as bad!"

"They're not barbarians," Hermione countered. "They just have a different culture and beliefs than us, and if you would ever open a history book you'd see why they believe as they do. I read all about their history, and it's not too different from our own. It's actually interesting to see where the differences occurred and how they've evolve over time."

"You don't know what you're talking about," snapped Ron. "You're not from the wizarding world, so you don't understand. They don't belong here!"

Hermione's eyes widened, and Harry knew she must have been hurt. Even he was a bit surprised Ron would say something like that.

"Oh, you mean that since I'm just a no good Mudblood that I couldn't possible understand the complexities of the magical society, is that it?" Hermione snapped back at him, the sharp edge to her voice leaving no doubt as to just how angry she was. "Well then you can just see how well you understand your classes without my help!"

"That's not what I meant!" Ron protested weakly as he watched her storm out of the common room.

"That was crass, mate," Harry told him as he got up to go look for her. The last thing he wanted was another series of fights breaking up their friendship like last year.

Mentally cursing himself for not stopping to grab his map, Harry headed towards the library. While nearly all of the student body was in their common rooms, it wasn't technically after curfew yet, and he figured it was the place she felt safest — most at home. He didn't see her at first, but as he walked towards the back of the library he heard it. The soft, faint sounds of someone crying. Very little was more distressing to him than a seeing a woman cry, especially if it is a friend doing the crying. It was unnatural and set his nerves on edge. Harry wanted to turn around and pretend that he never saw anything, or to go back out and make enough noise so that she'd act fine by the time he arrived again.

This was his best friend though, so without really thinking Harry approached her. He knew he wasn't any good at this sort of thing and would have preferred a simple argument with Ron, but he had made a promise during the summer that he'd treat her better than last year, and he'd already broken it once at the World Cup. Now was the time to try and make up for it.

"Hey," he said in a quiet voice as he put a hand on the shoulder of his sobbing friend.

"Harry?" she asked as she looked up in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," Harry replied.

If there was anything he hated about as much as feeling helpless, it was feeling unsure. And helpless and unsure was exactly what he felt like when Hermione threw her arms around him and continued to sob into his chest. He didn't know what else to say that, so he did the only thing that came to mind — kept silent and just held her.

After another minute, she took a couple slow breaths and wiped away her tears. Her eyes and nose were a mess though, and Harry couldn't help but feel miserable for her.

"Ron talks without thinking sometimes, you know that. You're the most brilliant person in the school and know a lot more about the magical world than Ron and I put together."

"It's not him. Not really," Hermione admitted.

"Well, what is it then?"

"It's just that's what everyone thinks," replied Hermione. She was still sniffling a little, but it seemed to have gotten better. "I mean, the Weasleys aren't big into the whole Pureblood nonsense, but even they see me as an outsider. I don't belong here, and that's what they always say."

"What?" cried Harry as tried to get up and head back to Gryffindor Tower. "The Weasleys said you didn't belong here?"

"Harry! Sit down," she said as she pulled him back down to his chair. "You know the Weasleys; they'd never say that. I meant the wizarding world in general. I was the top of our year in eight of my eleven classes last year and broke the school record for highest grade point average in Charms my first and third year. That doesn't matter to them, though. No matter how hard I study, I'll always be second class."

"I … um ... I know that's not true?" he tried, caught off guard by the admission. This was much more than he expected when he came down here.

She started to cry into his chest again, and Harry searched for something to say. "What I mean is, err … Oh, bloody hell. I'm no good at this," he finally admitted as he came up blank.

She laughed a little at that, and Harry finally felt a more at ease. Laughter he could deal with.

"You're better at it then you think. Thank you." She sighed and pulled Harry in close for a tight hug. Hermione was shivering just a little, and her cheeks were still damp, but she felt great against him. It was with a slight start that Harry realized he was enjoying this closeness a little too much.

"Hermione, what's really going on?" Harry asked, confused by his best friend. This wasn't right. She knew some of the Slytherins — Malfoy in particular — looked down upon the Muggleborns, but that had never caused this sort of reaction before.

"It's nothing yet, Harry. Don't worry about it. Come on, we have to get back before curfew. Unlike you and Ron, I do not plan on getting into trouble on the first day of school!"

It wasn't until later that night, in the privacy of his four poster bed that Harry realized what she had said - _Yet. _Hermione had seen something in the future, he was sure of it, and that's what had bothered her so much. Now he just had to figure out what it was.


	14. Chapter 14

Harry dreamt. The memories from his sleep were flashes. They were enough for him to recognize bits and pieces, but they were never long enough for him to really understand all the details.

From the lighting in the first memory he could tell it was late, much later than curfew, and Ron had his wand pulled out and aimed right at Harry. Hermione was next to him with her own wand out and pointed back at Ron. Harry couldn't see his own wand anywhere. No one moved at first; they just stood there, glaring at each other. _Why in the world would his best mate be pointing a wand at him? _

In another memory, a slightly older Hermione looked back at him, nodded wearily, and then yelled to the surrounding witches and wizards as Harry went forward. Everyone fell in behind him. There were no yells or even talking as their group marched through the forest in the silence of utter exhaustion. And then Harry found himself in the midst of chaos.

Everywhere around him wands were flashing as spells smashed into shields or were dodged. A power blow destroyed Harry's shield, the magical backlash stunning him for a moment as another spell came flying through the air toward him. A shield came up in front of him. He didn't know who cast it, but it diverted the spell enough to miss him. Not wasting time, he launched a counter attack, but the surrounding chaos prevented him from knowing if he'd taking any down permanently. Several witches and wizards encircled around him as Harry redoubled his effort. They managed to cut a path through, but not before at least one fell at his side. The blood-spattered body was left behind as they continued to fight.

The Death Eaters fought fiercely but gave ground as more and more of his friends and allies regrouped after having been surprised by the trap. Harry finally saw an opening and signaled the group. With a last great burst of energy, his team pressed through the ranks of the Death Eaters, effectively destroying their defense and causing them to flee like the cowardly dogs they were.

Harry woke with a gasp; his heart pounded before he realized it had just been another dream. Being back in Hogwarts must've triggered something, as the nightmares caused by his memories were worse than ever. Not a bit tired, Harry just lay in bed and stared up aimlessly at the ceiling.

Every year since he learned of magic had been an adventure. Some parts were great; many, not so much; and a few, horrible. From the feelings and memories he was getting, Harry was sure he had many adventures in store for him. Part of him, the part that decided on getting help to change things, was happy for it. He knew things were going to be bad, but this time he could change them! A small sliver of him, though, was worried and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep and never think of it again.

Harry was quite thankful that there wasn't really anything going on at breakfast later that morning, as his brain wasn't up for much. All anyone could talk about was the visiting schools and what was in store for the coming year. Harry, too, had thought about the same thing, though perhaps to a different extent than the rest — wondering if anyone of them were evil or working for Voldemort. It really would be an excellent way for him to get someone into the school again. Hopefully Dumbledore would check the foreign teachers thoroughly after what happened with Quirrel. Add to that trying to figure what it was Hermione saw that bothered her so much, and he was admittedly confused. Professor McGonagall handing out their schedules was a welcome interruption. His mind was running in circles again.

It was actually lucky that school started on a Friday that year, as he wouldn't have Potions until Monday morning. He was certain that Snape was doing this on purpose. What were the odds of Harry having Potions first thing Monday morning for four years in a row?

Transfiguration class changed days, as did Harry's other classes like Charms and History of Magic. But Potions always stayed the same. Charms was right after Potions on Monday, so at least he'd have a fair and somewhat fun teacher to make up for Snape's bias. Defense Against the Dark Arts, the subject Harry was best at and most looking forward to this year, was the last class for Monday, so hopefully that would help erase the memory of Potions altogether.

"Good morning class," Professor McGonagall said as she walked in to the classroom. "Welcome back for your fourth year at Hogwarts. I hope you are ready to work hard this year, as it will be the most difficult of your career here so far. During the first two years of Hogwarts, you adjusted to the daily use of magic in spells and to our teaching style. Your third year we increased the difficulty of the magic you were introduced to and broadened your horizons with your elective classes."

"This year you will begin to learn the finer intricacies of magic. Whereas you have accomplished most of your previous work by yourself, this year you will often find yourself working in a group to complete projects outside of class. Some of these you will be able to select your fellow members. There will be several, however, where your professors will assign your group."

The entire class seemed to straighten up unconsciously as their prim professor gave them all a very serious stare. "I have overseen these projects for more than thirty years and can unequivocally state that selecting your typical friends to be group members is rarely the best choice. While I understand that you may wish to spend more time with your friends, do not hesitate to select members from outside your normal circle. You should not look at this as a punishment but rather as an opportunity to expand your horizons."

While most people were whispering excitedly about the news, Harry was less than pleased with the prospect of group assignments. Unlike most his peers, he had dealt with group projects in primary school. His cousin Dudley, unfortunately, made sure that Harry was always in his group. Harry would do all the work, and Dudley would take all the credit.

A quick glance towards Hermione showed that she, too, was not looking forward to these projects. Harry didn't know much about her experiences in primary school. Neither of them liked to talk about it much, but he remembered how the know-it-alls were treated in his previous school. If there were anyone in school that got picked on nearly as much as Harry, it would have had to have been someone like her.

McGonagall continued on, explaining how this year each professor would be evaluating their students' performances and making suggestions for improvement in their continuing education. Harry didn't get what the big deal was, but Hermione and several others seemed to react to that announcement.

The only other interesting announcement was the exchange program with the other schools. "With the addition of the visiting schools this year," she said, "we will be conducting an exchange program that will allow you the chance to participate in their classes a few times each month."

McGonagall may have said it was all about building international ties and such, but to Harry it was a way away from Snape!

The rest of the class was just rest review from the previous year and questions about the summer homework. This year he didn't have any questions as Ollivander had him work through all of it several times until he understood it completely. Surprisingly though, Harry actually had a difficult time with the review. Not because he didn't know the spells but because his outlook on magic had changed quite a bit over the summer, and he now had to rethink the way he used to cast several of the spells.

History of Magic, unfortunately not first period this year, was as boring as ever, but Harry still paid attention. He wished they could use different books, like the ones Ollivander had him read over the summer. Reading about a specific person in history, about what he or she did, and how a single person's actions affected the world around them, was actually interesting. Classes with Bins, however, were boring.

The last subject of the day was Ancient Runes, and Harry was a little worried about it. The class was made up mostly of people he didn't really know. He knew who they were, of course, but he rarely talked to any of them. Most, like Terry Boot, Padma Patil, Susan Bones, and Hanna Abbot, Harry didn't really mind at all. Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and another of Malfoy's lackeys, Nott, however, he could have done without. And from the looks they were sending him, the feeling was mutual. At least Malfoy wasn't in this class.

"As you may have noticed," Professor Vector said as she walked in. "We have a new addition to our class."

"Mr. Potter," she added, "did you, by any chance borrow the notes of an older year when you studied over the holidays?"

"Yes Ma'am," Harry answered. "Katie Bell helped me catch up."

"That would explain it. I stress different areas of study depending on what that individual class is having difficulty with. Your scores were impressive overall, but there are a few areas where you will need to catch up to this individual class. Stay after a few moments, and I'll arrange a schedule for you."

There were a couple sniggers and comments about the extra help, but thankfully it wasn't too bad overall. The rest of the class went just like his others so far, what to expect the year and reviewing of the previous year. Padma and Susan, who sat in front of he and Hermione, both seemed rather nice, as did Terry Boot, who sat next to them. While Harry talked to them a few times over the years, he had never taken the chance to get to know them. On a spare piece of parchment Harry wrote down what he could remember of them and figured he'd make a full heading for each of them in his notebook later. Ollivander had wanted him to get to know at least one new person a week after all. Now he had his first three already chosen.

Harry stayed behind after class to talk to the professor, though he wasn't alone as one of the Hufflepuffs, Hanna Abbott, stayed after as well.

"Miss Abbott, your parents spoke to me over the summer concerning your scores."

Hanna remained looking at the floor as she replied in such a sullen voice that he actually felt sorry for her. _What was it with teachers and singling someone out in front of their peers?_ Snape singled Harry out on so many occasions that he now felt immune from the embarrassment, but he could still sympathize.

"If it is acceptable, I'd like to tutor you both first thing next Saturday morning. Once things calm down a bit, we'll look at scheduling something more permanent."

"That's fine with me," Harry replied. He'd planned on continuing studying Runes with Katie, but this way he could spend time with her doing _other_ things instead.

Thankfully, Ancient Runes was his last class for the day, so he took his time heading back to Gryffindor Tower — a decision he soon came to regret when he saw Katie was already in a conversation with one of her friends. Part of him wanted to head over and sit with Katie. The other part, however, wasn't sure if he should. If she'd been in a group, he would have gone over, but Katie was with just one friend that Harry hardly knew.

He hated not knowing what to do around her or how to act. Ever since they kissed the night of his birthday, the first couple minutes around each other were awkward. Once they got past that, things normally went perfectly. It was just his self-consciousness that buggered things up. And it was that same annoying doubt that caused Harry to head up to his dorm instead of over to her.

--

It was disturbing: That was the only way Harry could describe the silence in the Great Hall that evening after all the other schools had arrived. With more than five times the amount of students packed into the hall than normal, Harry expected it to be loud. No one, however, seemed to be in the mood to really talk. He was slightly surprised by how many new students were actually here. There had been a few flashbacks since the previous day, but seeing everyone now was different.

Beauxbatons was slightly larger than Hogwarts, Durmstrang a bit smaller, and the Australian school smaller still. Salem Magical Institute and The Gaia Institute, however, had nearly twice as many students as Hogwarts. That little fact only had surprised many Gryffindors. Since Hogwarts was the premiere wizarding school in the world, it only made since that it was largest as well. Hermione was not surprised and explained that both countries had a much larger population pool to gain students from.

Thankfully, the food arrived and the silence was broken as everyone paid homage to the noble creatures that sacrificed their lives for human enjoyment. The delicious meal also had the benefit of loosening tongues as the noise of conversation slowly started to fill the hall. Instead of just the normal Hogwarts feast, the tables filled with foods and delicacies from around the world.

While Ron chose to stay with his traditional fair, he and Hermione were a bit more adventuresome and tried a little of everything. Some were delicious and he made a note to have them again; others, however, he couldn't stand. All the while Hermione kept a running commentary of what she knew about the different dishes. Harry knew she was well traveled, having been on vacations to different countries every summer since she was little, but her knowledge still left him amazed.

--

"Wha… Mr. Ollivander?" Harry asked in surprise. The last he remembered he'd been talking in his dorm talking with Ron and trying to get the some sleep. Now he was standing in the middle of a large stone circle. The massive stones completely encircled him. The fit of each lintel was exact and a twin of the others. Underneath one of the arches a brook burbled down into a pool in the center of the circle, filling the small depression there before moving on out the other side. The tranquility of this place was lulling, even to Harry's shocked heart.

"Ah, welcome Mr. Potter! We were not positive when you would arrive," the old wand maker said. There were several people spread throughout the cavern. Harry remembered meeting the group the other day at Ollivanders' shop, but hadn't expected to see them again so soon. Most turned to greet him, but two kept working on whatever it was they were doing."

"Where am I?"

"Our most difficult projects are too expensive and volatile to be done in just any backroom. For such cases there are a few natural nodes throughout the world that may be used by the true masters of a craft — this is one such node."

"A node?" Not the best question, perhaps, but considering Harry's confusion, it was the best he could do.

"Magic is an energy found all around us. It is by channeling this energy that we may power our spells, whether we tap into the magic by use of arcane words and wand gestures, focusing our inner will and psyche, or through prayer of a god. Since the source of all this magic is chaotic in nature, the availability of that energy can vary from moment to moment. Nodes are locations were that energy is focused and calm.

"Look there," Ollivander said, pointing toward where Jennifer Daniels, one of the women he'd met the other day, was working with a large diamond. She was one of the two people not to stop her work to welcome him.

Mrs. Daniels was still for a moment before she brought her fingertips to a point over a series of runestones. Focusing intensely at the space just above her fingers, she conjured a small orb of energy. The orb began to spin rapidly in place, causing thin streams of energy to slide away, creating an electrical storm around the orb. The crackling sounds of the energy grew louder accompanied by the whistling of raging air as small forks of lightning arced around the spinning maelstrom. The storm swelled in size as it pulsed and vibrated, as if trying to escape her careful control. When it reached its full potential, she separated her hands and arc after arc of blazing energy rained down on to the runestones below, the size of the orb shrinking with each powerful blast. After the storm cleared, Harry looked down and realized the runestones were missing. The runes, once etched in the stone, now glistened on the large diamond.

"Wow," was all Harry could think to say. He'd seen a lot of magic before, but that was wicked.

"An accurate description, Mr. Potter," Mr. Ollivander said. "Far more so than you realize, as there are very few alive who have witnessed the infusion of such a large amount of natural magic. Even among masters, Jennifer is a prodigy."

After she was finished the diamond, it was Ollivander's turn to work. Harry was free to walk around and practice magic as he pleased, but he was asked not to disturb anyone who was working. Looking around the workshop, he was amazed at all the different gadgets. Harry had absolutely no idea what any of them did, but the sheer number of intricate looking items swirling, puffing, vibrating, or changing colors was impressive. One item in particular caught his eye. It was floating carefully above an out-of-the-way table toward the other side of the circle.

Harry figured the leather-bound black staff was one of the expensive projects Ollivander spoke of. The obsidian of the shaft was as black as a starless night, and bands of crimson intricately swirled along the surface. Glowing, deep red runes that were far too complex for him to understand were mixed within the swirls. Mounted atop the staff was a large emerald carved into the image of a dragon with wings fully extended. Harry stared at it for a few moments before moving on. That was easily the single most impressive staff he had ever heard of.

Making sure to stay well away from the staff, Harry began working on a few spells. The magic seemed to react faster, and even his wand movements seemed more accurate and fluid. He first thought was because he was in a node, but he learned it was also because he had left his physical body at Hogwarts, allowing his consciousness to pay more attention to his magic. Once he mastered being able to feel his magic, something Ollivander had had him working on for weeks now, it would always respond to him in such a manner.

Harry was working on a shielding charm when Reanna walked over a bit later. Like the few occasions before, Harry's attention quickly transferred from what he was doing to the beautiful blonde bombshell in front him. The barely existent shield dissolved nearly instantly, and he blushed at the pointed look she gave him in response. After that rather embarrassing beginning, however, Harry quickly learned she was quite knowledgeable on shielding spells.

While her body was a distraction, her insight on magic was especially helpful. In many cases, including with the shielding charm he was working on, the shield was actually an extension of the caster's magic. While powerful, these shields would slowly wear down the caster because they continuously channeled magic to continue powering the shield. Less powerful shields only took magic in the very beginning and then existed for a few minutes until their power wore out or the shield was destroyed. A few rare spells actually converted the magic around the target area into a shield. These were generally the most difficult to cast, but they were also the most helpful.

On a normal shield, the caster sometimes felt a magical backlash when the shield was destroyed. By being completely disconnected from the caster, these last types of shields would have no backlash. There were also a few spells that were specifically designed to transfer from the shield to the caster. The Unforgiveables, Reanna explained, were actually amplified by the connection between shield and caster.

Understanding a bit more about the nature of the spells actually helped a lot. With Reanna's advice, Harry easily learned two different shielding charms, and he was well on his way to learning a transfiguration-based shield when Ollivander came by. Morning had arrived long before he was ready, and it was time for him to leave. Apparently, not having a body also meant he didn't feel tired after hours of practicing.

Eager to continue training, Harry asked if he could come back tomorrow night.

"I'm afraid that is not possible, Mr. Potter," Ollivander replied. "By allowing your consciousness to separate, your body gains the rest it requires while you may continue to learn. This, however, comes at a cost. Sleep has evolved for a purpose and is crucial to consolidate memories, as well as stabilize your magic, mood, and sanity. Wizards have evolved an organized architecture of sleep. The trick is that the architecture of sleep is broken up into various stages, and one does not approach the most intense periods until after one has progressed back and forth through the others. The most intense period is late into the sleep cycle and often early in the morning. You may train with us twice per week without suffering any long-term effects. Anymore than that, however, I can not recommend."

To be honest, he only understood about half of what Ollivander said, which really wasn't out of the ordinary — the old man was smart. Unfortunately, Harry did understand two days a week. "Will Sirius be here next time?"

"The metallic band used to bind consciousness and magic together is time-consuming to create. It will be three more weeks before another is fully prepared. Once that is completed, I am quite sure Mr. Black will be eager to join us."

--

Waking up after having spent the night training was an odd experience. One moment he was talking with Ollivander, the next he lying in bed with his eyes close. There was no grogginess, but his body was still a little stiff. The sun was barely peaking over the horizon, but he was already fully awake. Harry stretched and went on his morning run. He would not have imagined it last year, but for some odd reason he really liked the early morning runs. Most of the castle was still asleep, and there was no worry about running into Filch or Snape. This was another aspect of the morning that surprised him. Compared to sneaking out during the night, sneaking out in the early morning was much easier.

After a few laps around the castle, Harry headed back in to Hogwarts. The run wasn't as long or as far as normal, but it was fun and the scenery beautiful. Harry hated the idea of running in circles and decided to map out a better path for next time. There was a lot of land around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade that could be used; part of it was technically out of bounds for a student, but that had never stopped him before and wasn't about to now.

Coming down the stairs of a rather well known secret passage, Harry was met with a series of shouts and exclamations. Looking down, he saw nearly a dozen students and several professors from the foreign schools staring at him like he was a ghost or something. He wasn't sure what exactly was going on, but he figured walking down out of the ceiling on translucent steps probably had something to do with their odd looks.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," Professor Dumbledore said, in a rather cheerful voice. "I dare hope you are not trying to sneak back in at this hour?"

"Morning Headmaster," replied Harry as he finished walking down the stairs and tried to ignore the outbreak of whispers. Just great. He was famous internationally as well. "And no, sir, I'm just coming back from my morning run."

"Mr. Wood would be quite proud of you. He often ran in the mornings before your Quidditch practices," he said before introducing Harry to the rest of the group. The students turned out to be the equivalent of Head Boy and Girl and prefects of the American and Australian schools.

"I am in the process of giving a tour of Hogwarts," Dumbledore added once the introductions were complete. "A student's perspective may be helpful however. Would you care to impart any advice?"

"Ah, sure," Harry replied as he tried to think of a few helpful tips. "One of the main things is the stairs. With more than a thousand years of having students walk all over them, they're understandably a little spiteful. If you're in a hurry and want them to stay still, they'll most likely start to change on you. This can work to your advantage, however, by thinking the opposite of what you want. Basically, if you're in a hurry, make sure to think that you have all the time in the world. If you actually want them to change sides, start thinking about how you want to them to stay still. It's not a hundred percent, but it's a lot better than leaving it up to chance.

"The next most important thing is to learn the different secret passages, like the one I just took," he told the group. Most of the students and teachers actually seemed interested in what he had to say, but there were a few that looked annoyed at having to listen. "With them, you can easily get from any point to any other point in Hogwarts within a few minutes time.

"Ah, here's another important one, The Forbidden Forest. Now, I'm sure you've been told it's forbidden — but no one ever really mentions why. First off, the outer edges aren't too bad. You can actually see Unicorns and several other rare creatures from the edges. Going in any further than the edges is rather dangerous, though. If, for some odd reason, you're like me and find yourself in the forest, there are two parts you'll want to avoid at all costs. To the north and east of the main path you'll find wooden signs saying 'There be monsters here.' This is the section that isn't covered on any Hogwarts or Ministry map, and there is good reason for that. To the north you'll find Centaurs. While they may let a lost child survive, it's doubtful they'd let an older student live. To the east is a colony of Acromantula being led by Aragog. They will eat you without a second thought, so avoid them at all costs. Further in the forest there are probably other creatures as well, but I wouldn't recommend finding out.

"Let's see," he said while trying to think of something to lighten the mood up a bit. Harry wanted them to take it seriously but not really leave them scared. It wasn't a big deal as long as you avoided the trouble spots. "The paintings are the biggest gossips around. If you want something to remain a secret, don't let them see or hear anything. If they do, it'll be around Hogwarts in no time. There are also a few secret passages out of Hogwarts."

Dumbledore coughed slightly. "That is, perhaps, enough for now Mr. Potter. We do not want to corrupt our new friends too much just yet."

Harry just grinned at the old professor. He probably shouldn't have said anything. Realistically though, at least a few of them would be sneaking out anyway, so there was no real harm done.

The rest of the morning was actually pretty fun. Neither Ron and Hermione, nor Katie and her friends could believe he'd said all that in front of the headmaster. Fred and George were quite proud of him. For the first time since he tossed them up again the wall, they actually laughed and teased him. Katie's reaction seemed rather odd to Harry though. To him, Dumbledore was just his headmaster, and Harry worried about saying something wrong in front of McGonagall a great deal more than Dumbledore. But to Katie, Dumbledore was some legendary figure, and she couldn't imagine acting like that in front of him.

"I like the decorations," Harry commented as he walked into Katie's dorm a bit after breakfast, only to be met with the sight of clothes spread all over the place. "Were you going for the hit by a tornado look or the run over by a train look?"

"Look at all her beautiful clothes," Cephea responded in her eleven-year-old overly enthusiastic voice. "Isn't Katie going to look great?"

Harry just nodded his head in agreement. After seeing her outfits this summer, he wasn't going to complain. "So, what will you wear now that we're back at Hogwarts?"

"Depends on the occasion," answered Katie.

"Occasion?"

"Like for afternoons, weekends, or going to outside, and even to Hogsmeade. Those sorts of occasions."

"Oh," Harry said. "For afternoons I guess."

"What's the weather like?"

Harry looked out the window. "Umm … Same as today."

"Alright. No one's seen what I wore before yesterday, so previous outfits won't matter. But, if we're hypothetically speaking about sometime after the next week that would completely change things."

"That matters?" he asked.

"Of course it matters. It's been nearly three months since most the school has even seen me. The clothes I wear the first couple weeks will set the tone and expectations of my outfits for the rest of the semester."

"I'm probably going to regret this, but what does it take to decide?" Harry had asked a few girl questions over the summer when Katie was with Angelina and Alicia, and he'd quickly learned that he understood nothing about girls. Sometimes it just wasn't worth asking, but if he could happen to show his preference for her mid-thigh skirts and dresses, it would be well worth it.

"There are tons of factors. My hair, for example. Last year I almost always wore it down, but I've been wearing it up quite a bit this summer. That means I'll need to wear at least a couple outfits with my hair up soon. I can't just wait a month or so and then suddenly show up one day with it up. Then there are the obvious details such as shoes and my class schedule.

"I get the hair and shoes, but what possible difference does your class schedule make?"

"Are you kidding?" asked Angelina. "That's one of the most important factors!"

"How could it possibly matter? School robes cover any outfit you wear."

Katie asked, "I meant what classmates I'd have for the next day. They may not be able to see my outfit right then, but they'll have paid attention the day before. Anyways, classes are finished by three o'clock. That leaves at least six hours to wear our normal clothes."

Harry guessed he could understand that. Hermione rarely ever really removed her robe after a day of classes; but thinking about it now, he realized most girls did. "But you still think about your classmates when you choose your clothes?"

"That's mostly what fashion is all about. There are a huge number of factors you have to think about when considering who's in each class. Their status, their opinions of different styles, especially of what I might wear, trends in the way they dress and what they might be wearing that day. There's much more, but that's the gist of it."

"Hang on," he said, as he tried to wrap his brain around that. "Are you saying that one of the things you think about is what your next-day classmates will be wearing the day before?"

"Of course," Katie answered in a matter-of-fact tone that made it seem like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"But you can't possibly know what everyone is wearing if they haven't decided what to wear yet because they're wondering what everyone else will be wearing!"

"I know. That's one of the hardest problems."

"Why does it even matter what they're wearing?" Harry asked in frustration, as his mind began to hurt from the complete lack of logic.

"It's too important not to take into consideration. Can you imagine what a disaster it'd be if I wore the same outfit as another girl?"

"Um … No?"

"Trust me on this," Katie said. "It's an embarrassment. Thankfully, no one would let two identically dressed girls bump into each other, so it's nearly impossible."

"Seriously? That seems a bit over the top."

Katie looked puzzled at that. "It's not. The most Pureblooded Slytherin would immediately warn a Muggleborn Gryffindor because she might need the same warning herself someday. Even hatred isn't as important as fashion."

Harry was still struggling to understand the effort required to pick out what to wear, but he finally just decided to leave it. Katie was a girl, and that was that. "I can't believe the effort you put into something as simple clothing. I just put on whatever comes to mind and couldn't care less whether other guys wear the same clothes as me."

"Nearly every guy except Lee and a couple others have no idea how to dress," Angelina commented. "It's always the same jeans, same shirts, and same jackets when you all have different body shapes, heights and skin colors. It's a complete disaster repeated hundreds of times over!"

"She has a point," Katie agreed. "Which do you think looks better, the clothing every other guy wears, or the outfits we picked out for you over summer?"

Grudgingly, Harry admitted that their clothing looked better. He'd already had more than a few comments on them the last couple days. Harry came up here to spend a bit more time with Katie, but he decided it was safer just to leave and let the girls do their clothes. "I'll be downstairs. Come get me when you're ready for the tour."

Mentioning the tour sidetracked them away from clothing, which was perfectly fine with Harry. Cephea had already bragged about it to her dorm-mates, so instead of just showing her around, he and Katie ended up taking a small group of firsties. It took a bit longer than he originally expected, as they both stopped to tell stories about the different areas. Harry actually enjoyed it a great deal though, as Katie's stories were a lot more interesting than the rest of the tour.

They were almost finished with the tour when they stumbled upon one aspect of Hogwarts he could have done without — an encounter with Malfoy. Apparently a kid from one of the other schools was lost and had the misfortune to meet up with Malfoy. The summer hadn't done anything for Malfoy's attitude, and he had the kid surrounded by his two thugs, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Knock it off, Malfoy!"

"Potter," the blond boy sneered, "this doesn't concern you."

"Get stuffed, Malfoy. It does concern me when you ruin Hogwarts' name. Why don't you crawl back to your dungeon and cry before I have to sic Hermione on you. You do remember the last time, don't you?" Harry asked with a grin. The memory of Hermione hitting Malfoy was one of the best from last year.

Like normal, Malfoy was all bluster and left with only a few more idle threats. Personally, Harry thought he should team up with Professor Trelawney with how often they both spoke of his impending doom.

Harry would have liked to spend more time with Katie, but he didn't want to answer any questions about how he knew where each of the foreign schools was already. It's not that he didn't trust her, but there were several first year girls around as well. And if there was one thing he had learned over the years, it was that girls would gossip. Even Hermione, who seemed the least girly of their classmates, kept up on the gossip — though she denied ever gossiping herself. They were mostly done with the tour, so he had Katie take the girls back up to Gryffindor Tower while Harry took care of the foreign kid.

The kid, an Australian named Michael, looked to be in his second or third year, though Harry didn't ask. He loved exploring and spent a lot of weekends wandering the halls of his school. He heard rumors about secret passages here at Hogwarts during breakfast and decided to find them on his own. Apparently, the kid really was good, because he had already found a half dozen different ones before running in to the Slytherins.

By the time Harry got back to the common room, neither Katie nor Cephea were around. Harry figured she was back up in her room playing with clothes and decided to leave her to it and hang out with Ron and Hermione instead.

--

"A word please," Professor McGonagall called to Harry as he walked into the Great Hall the next morning. She, Professors Snape, Dumbledore, and a few from the other schools were talking in a small group just off from the Gryffindor's table. As they got closer, Harry noticed Malfoy and his two goons with the group as well. Malfoy's sickening, malicious grin didn't bode well.

"Mr. Potter, there have been serious allegations about your conduct yesterday."

"Enough of this," Snape snarled. "The brat should have been expelled years ago. His latest stunt just proves my point once again!"

Typical. Snape had proved time and time again that he hated Harry. How Dumbledore and McGonagall could even believe that man was beyond him.

"Wait a minute, you actually believe something Malfoy said?" he asked incredulously as his mind caught up to what the teachers were saying. "He was the one causing problems yesterday, not me!"

"A likely excuse," Snape sneered. "Why did you not report this transgression to a professor if you witnessed it yesterday."

"The school's never done anything about it his bullying before. Why would this time be any different?"

"Draco Malfoy," Snape started, but Harry cut him off. "Is nothing more than a pathetic cry-baby bully and has been since first year. The moment you stand up to him, he starts crying about his father this and his father that. There were six of us there yesterday that saw Malfoy picking on one of the Australian kids. You can ask them what happened."

"There will be no need for more witnesses. Four students have already come forward as having witnessed your abuse."

"They're lying!"

Harry started in surprise at the strong Australian accent. He hadn't realized it, but they'd become the center of attention in the Great Hall.

"Harry was the one that saved me yesterday after I became lost. He stopped them and brought me back. They," the kid from yesterday, Michael, said while pointing at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, "held me to the wall and made me listen to him go on and on about his father and how old his family line is. Isn't there a law against making someone listen to that? Cruel and unusual punishment?"

It took a moment for everyone to understand what he said through his Australian accent. When they did though, the nearby Gryffindors cracked up laughing. Harry thought the kid was nice yesterday, but now he had proven himself in Harry's eyes.

"I can attest to part of that Madam," another Australian accent said, this one from a girl. Harry was fairly sure she was one of Prefects he met coming back from his run the previous morning. "At nearly eleven yesterday morning someone pounded on our picture frame. After opening it, I found Mr. Potter escorting a lost student back to us — though neither spoke of any bullying."

He couldn't help but smile at the girl. With the victim and another witness, both from a foreign school, Malfoy and Snape's plans were ruined. Harry had a hard time believing Dumbledore would have expelled him without really looking into what happened, but he could easily see getting a few detentions for Malfoy's lies. It wouldn't be the first time that had happened.

Snape, being the fair and unbiased professor he was, vocally defended one of his students against such slander. Not wanting to argue in front of the students, Dumbledore called for a meeting after breakfast and asked all the students to continue on with their meal. Personally, Harry thought the entire thing should never have happened.

"You," one of the twins said to the Australian kid in an overly serious voice, "are brash, brave, and entirely too bold. I like that. It reminds me of … me."

"Don't encourage him," Hermione scolded. "He should have gone to a teacher first thing!"

"What do you think," Fred or George asked several nearby Gryffindors. "He saved the day and made fun of a Slytherin. Is he an honorary Gryffindor or what?"

There were quite a few cheers of agreement, and Michael was swept away in a swarm of applause and slaps to the back. The older Gryffindors were always looking for an excuse for a party, and this seemed as good enough reason as any. The rest of breakfast was actually a good bit of fun. The Gryffindor prefects, Hermione, and even the professors tried to calm everyone down, but the mood was contagious, and breakfast stayed a rather rowdy affair. Quite a few insults and pranks were traded back and forth with the Slytherins over the next hour. The professors did manage to keep breakfast from escalating into a full-blown war, though there were a couple close calls.

Katie finished her breakfast earlier than most. After talking to her friends for a few minutes, she left the table. Harry saw her go and quickly finished chewing before getting up to follow. The thought of a few minutes alone with her was more than enough to leave the rest of his food on his plate. So intent on following her, Harry didn't even think to say bye to his friends or take a look around as he walked out of the Great Hall.

BANG!

Several people screamed as pain exploded in the back of Harry's head and the world tilted around him. Disoriented and unable to defend himself, Malfoy's blows felt distant, as if muted by his numb senses. He felt anger as a primal force rose within him. It flowed through his body and every muscle tensed and clouded with his rage. In that moment he lost control as a basic, more animal instinct took hold. A new force emerged as Harry's mind fought for survival with murderous intent.

When he finally regained composure he couldn't believe what had happened. The entire entrance way was destroyed: windows shattered, doors blown off their hinges, steps from the stairs lying in pieces on the floor, and Malfoy imbedded in the opposite wall. Turning on his side, Harry clutched his knees to his chest. He tried to remember what exactly had happened, but he couldn't. He was covered in sweat, had destroyed everything nearby, and seriously injured Malfoy. They were all horrible things, so why then had it felt so … good.

Standing slowly his muscles felt stiff, his joints were sore, and his head was pounding. There were people nearby talking. Students and professors were asking him questions, demanding, shouting. Harry ignored them all.


	15. Chapter 15

Tired and hungry from pushing himself so hard on his morning run, Harry limped into the Great Hall, hoping he was still early enough to get the best choice of foods. Sitting down next to his friends, Harry was reminded that they had potions in only a few minutes. Snape was not who he wanted to see first thing any morning, let alone today; after the confrontation with Malfoy yesterday, he was sure he was going to be far worse than normal.

Harry was right. Potion's class was even more unbearable than he thought it would be. Unfortunately, Snape turned out to be only part of the problem, as it was the whispers and pointed looks from the rest of the class that really got to him. And while he knew she meant well, Hermione's constant reminders to ignore them all just annoyed him further. By the end of class, Harry had personally lost 15 points for Gryffindor and gained a detention with Filch. The worse part about all of it was that at least some of the points were deserved. He just couldn't keep his mind on the lesson.

There was no real improvement for the rest of the day. The teachers all tried to ignore what happened, but it was all the students wanted to talk about. Harry really hated rumors and being the topic of conversation; but in this case, he really couldn't blame them — even he wanted to know what exactly happened. It wasn't like before his third year, when his accidental magic blew up Aunt Marge. This time had been different; yet annoyingly, it somehow it still felt familiar.

It was almost like the feeling he had while kissing Katie earlier in the summer. It wasn't exactly the same, but the powerful. primal feeling was similar. He wanted to talk to Sirius about it, but that wouldn't be for a few weeks yet. No matter how helpful Ollivander had been over the summer, Harry just couldn't imagine talking to the old man about kissing her.

Toward the end of the day came the message he'd been dreading — a meeting with the Headmaster immediately following his last class. Hermione and Ron walked him to the entrance to the Headmaster's tower and sent a sympathetic look his way before quickly heading back to Gryffindor. Harry was grateful for his friends' presence, but their weak assurances that he'd be fine did little for his mood.

While today's visit was far from the first time he'd been to see the Headmaster, it was completely different from any other time. This wasn't like before, where only a few people knew what rules he'd broken and those could be easily overlooked because of the good he'd done. Harry had completely destroyed the entry way to the school. Though most of it had been repaired by the end of the previous day, everyone that had been in the Great Hall, and probably every student in all six schools, knew he'd done it. This time he really could be expelled.

Taking a seat, Harry waited for Dumbledore to begin. There was an awkward moment when the headmaster sat in silence, as if waiting for Harry to say something; but he really had no idea what to say. Malfoy had attacked first, and true to the Slytherin's cowardly way, he had even attacked his back.

Harry fought the urge to quiver under the headmaster's penetrating gaze. For a horrifying, maddening, moment, Harry felt like the headmaster was peering right through him and into his soul. He'd felt this way before, during his second year when speaking to Dumbledore, and again during the summer when he first asked Ollivander for help. A part of his mind, the younger Harry who felt like he'd been caught lying around by his Aunt Petunia, wanted to shrink away and stare at the floor rather than face his headmaster. Harry wasn't sure what had happened after Malfoy's attack, but he knew he wasn't sorry for it, and that alone gave him the strength to meet Dumbledore's eyes.

"Very well then," Dumbledore said with a bit of a sigh. "I have been in contact with the Board of Governors and the Ministry, as well as representatives from the respective governments of our foreign guests. As you might imagine, this is not how we wanted our guests to be greeted. However, altercations between students do happen from time to time, and I see little point in dwelling on such issues. That is, at least, the basic reasoning I have convinced the others to accept. Officially, this incident will be handled as a typical altercation involving the misuse of magic. Young Mr. Malfoy, responding to an earlier slight, allowed his anger to temporally take hold and attacked when he saw an opportunity. For this transgression, he will be given a week's detention, and Slytherin will be starting this year with negative house points. As there are many witnesses to verify you were attacked from behind without provocation, you will not be facing any disciplinary actions for your use of accidental magic."

Harry could hardly believe his ears. He wasn't in trouble! Sure, there were times when he didn't get in trouble for doing something against the rules, but those were in extremely dire circumstances. Regardless of what Snape and Malfoy said, he almost always received detentions anytime he was caught, and in cases involving Snape, even when he was innocent. And they were just going to leave it at that? He'd destroyed the entire entrance way!

"Now then, I believe it is time for you to begin the homework that you have no doubt left to the last night, as so many young students do, unless there is anything you wish to add?" the old professor asked kindly.

"No, sir," Harry replied. He was sure Dumbledore knew there was something more to it than just regular accidental magic, but there was no way he was going to say anything that might get him in trouble now.

Hermione and Ron were awaiting his arrival and eagerly dragged him off to the side the moment he entered Gryffindor Tower.

"How bad was it mate?" Ron asked the moment they were out of hearing range of the others. "Detention, right? It's not like they'd expel you when we all know it's that git's fault."

"Relax, mate. I'm not in any trouble. Malfoy has a week's worth of detentions though."

"You're not? I mean, that's great and all. But…"

"Well of course he isn't in trouble," Hermione said, though they could easily hear the relief in her voice. "They can't be seen as acting unfairly in front of all the other schools — and especially not after the accusations from Malfoy earlier in the morning. I'm just glad that is all over with, though you really do need to watch yourself, Harry. I'm sure Malfoy is going to try and get you in trouble again."

*****

"Are you sure it was wise not to tell him the truth, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked from the seat one of her favorite pupils had left only minutes before.

"If Mr. Potter were to find out the truth of his power, he would no doubt try to control it. That sort of mastery is incredibly difficult at any age, let alone as young as he is now. It could very well overwhelm him. During the past few years, he has only accessed his true strength without being fully aware. As long as he continues to accept it as either luck or coincidence, he will not put himself, or everyone else for that matter, in danger."

"You're right, of course. It's just so much to ask of one so young without even knowing why."

"That it is, my dear," the aged Headmaster admitted with a bit of a sigh. "But there is little to be done for him; with humanity showing just how selfish it truly is, such strength will be needed now more than ever before."

*****

"Director Bones," MLE Officer Brooks said as she walked into her superior's sterile office. "You wanted to know about communications between the Minister, International Confederation Hit-wizard Boradus, and Wizengamot member Lucius Malfoy. One is taking place as we speak."

"Any chance this could be another decoy?"

"We don't believe so; it was too elaborate of a setup. If it wasn't for the fact that we were watching the source so closely, we'd never have put it together."

Director Bones sat upright in her office chair at the new information. It was disturbing to say the least. She had hoped she was wrong, that she was becoming paranoid since the appointment to her new position only two months previously, and that all the unanswered questions really wasn't a conspiracy. It was still possibly. This communication could, technically, just be some inane political conversation. She did not believe it though. If there was one thing she had learned over the course of her long career, it was that there was no such thing as a coincidence when it came to politics.

"Thank you. I'd like to see the full report the moment it's completed."

"Yes, ma'am."

*****

Fudge smirked as his mole informed him the conversation had been intercepted successfully. It would take time for them to put the pieces together, he knew, but Director Bones was an intelligent and resourceful woman in charge of a competent and dedicated department. The Minister did not like the woman — Amelia Bones was far too noble and could never understand the necessity of backroom deals — but he did respect her abilities. Amelia was a good Auror, and destroying her career would be a costly necessity — they would surely miss such a competent and respected leader when the war began. But such loses were unfortunately the necessities of reality.

Sure, the idea of clean and honorable politics sounded great on parchment, and once, many years ago, he had actually believed he could change the corrupt system from within — but that type of naiveté had no place in the real world. Especially not now, with so much was happening so quickly. It was only a matter of time now before the Muggles saw the true power of the magic, and one miss-step in such a sensitive plan would bring ruin to the Ministry. In the end, he — Cornelius Fudge, the greatest Minister Britain has ever known — would be the man to lead the confederation to salvation, no matter who he had to ally himself with in order to do so. For now, he needed to be patient and keep things quiet.

*****

Under-secretary Umbridge sat with her lips pressed tightly together as she thought back to her latest conversation with the Minister. Director Bones was still sniffing at their tails it seemed, searching for any scrap to nail them with. How dare she! Umbridge thought angrily.

Amelia Bones was a popular woman, but she was a figurehead who had relied on her family's name and connections to get to where she was today. Who was she to question the actions of the Minister? Minister Fudge had earned his position, working his way up the ministry to one of the highest positions of power in the world, and some simple fake wanted to hang such a great man just to make more of name for herself!

That such a simpleton even suspected something was happening was distressing, of course. It was a mistake in an otherwise perfect plan, but not crippling, at least not at this stage. Minister Fudge had been around a long time, and he was sure to have planned for such situations. They would keep a careful watch on things, proceed with extra care, but keep going as before. Soon they would act and save their people from themselves.

*****

"Master," said a small man with a rat-like face as he bent low to the ground. "Our spies at Hogwarts have reported in, and Lucius has also contacted us about the Ministry. Fudge was just as greedy as you predicted, Master, but he accepted the terms in the end. Everything is going according to your plan."

"Of course," replied an eerily high-pitched voice, seemingly from no-where and everywhere around him. "The opposition is little more than fools who care only about themselves, their power, their money, and their vanity. They have no true vision of the future and would have us be lapdogs for those inferior Muggles. Soon though, I will show them the true use of power. We are the British, the home of the movement started by Salazar so many years ago. Tell the others, it is time. With the world focused on events here, I and my lieutenants will go abroad. We must meet and inspire them to join our movement. The world will follow me, and they will begin to do so now, not in ten or twenty more years. Soon we will cleanse the Earth of those physically and mentally deficient Muggles."

"Yes, Master."

_The Ministry. The Wizarding people. The life of his nation. They would respond to a strong heart, a strong leader. Voldemort would be that leader, and in his wake will lay the broken shards of their oppressors — Muggles._

*****

As the week progressed, a few things became obvious to Harry. The professors were assigning tons of homework — far more than normal for the first week of school — and not just the fourth years; all the students were being loaded with homework. The assignments were generally easy, but they were still long and tedious.

The most popular theory on this was that the professors had been inducted into a sadistic cult during the summer that required them to torture students in cruel and unusual ways. Hermione had a much more reasonable explanation, believing they just wanted to give the foreigners a chance to settle in without too many interruptions. For the most part, Harry actually thought that was a good idea; there was one problem with it, though. Aside from a few minutes here and there, he and Katie had spent very little time together since their tour of the school. And to Harry's disappointment, they'd had absolutely no private time since the World Cup.

Flashes of the future were becoming a problem again. Harry had thought he'd gotten over that by accepting the memories early in the summer, but being back in Hogwarts with all the familiar sights and faces were bringing them back. They weren't nearly as bad as before, but he still had to make up a few excuses to cover himself as he got lost in the memories while talking with one of the others, or even just walking in the hallways. The worse one, or best, Harry hadn't decided yet, occurred when they were talking in their dorm one night.

Dean had needed to use the loo; but after heading to the bathroom, he found he was inexplicitly compelled to head to another one. This wasn't unheard of as the privacy spells the guys used could be overpowered or placed near the entrance instead of the back sections of the bathroom — if it became a problem they'd have to have a talk with the others, but as long as it only happened occasionally, everyone accepted that it was just part of life at Hogwarts. As the castle was built so long ago, it had undergone several renovations; the latest, only a couple hundred years ago, added three sets of bathrooms and showers to boys dorms of Gryffindor Tower. One was on the first floor of the tower for the first and second years to share; the next was on the fourth floor for the third, fourth, and fifth years; and the last was for the upper classmen on the sixth floor.

Since Dean was in a bad way at the time, he chose to go up two floors rather than down four. While there was technically no school rule against it, the sixth and seventh year bathroom was unofficially off-limits to the younger students, and he should have gone down to the first and second year's bathroom instead. Luckily no one else was there, and he had nearly finished his business when another person came in. Not wanting to be caught and subject himself to the upper year's mercy, Dean hid and kept silent, hoping the upperclassman would finish and he could leave without incident. But instead of going to the bathroom, the guy left for a moment and this time brought a girl back in with him.

The problem with many standard privacy spells was that they only stopped people outside of them from hearing and seeing what was happening. Harry and each of his dorm-mates had learned the hard way that anyone already nearby when the spell was cast was not affected. Though, to their embarrassment, it was a lesson that was easily forgotten when tired or … distracted. Since Dean was already nearby and therefore not affected by the spell, he went on to tell them what he saw happen between the two. At first Harry's mind automatically went to his make out sessions with Katie, but as Dean continued to explain — in intricate detail — exactly what happened, a new memory popped into Harry's mind: his hand gripping soft, curly hair and a feeling beyond anything he ever felt coursing through him. It was only there for a moment before he lost it, but that alone almost caused him to embarrass himself. As it was, the slight groan he produced was enough for his friends to spend the rest of the night ripping on him.

Harry's nights with Ollivander and the others were turning out to be surprisingly helpful. Like with his summer lessons, Ollivander had a task all ready for him to do before he got there, but he spent at least fifteen minutes being introduced to a couple new adults and talking to a couple of the ones he'd met last time — Miss Reanna and Trenton Pyrrus. It was a little difficult to ask questions to the different adults because he really didn't want to make himself look like an idiot, but he had learned to talk better over the summer, and most seemed to go out of their way to talk even when he didn't have questions.

As there were now students from several foreign schools staying at the castle for the tournament, Harry made sure to learn what he could about them; it was surprisingly easy considering that it was all big news in the Wizarding world. One thing he did not want to talk about was the incident with Malfoy earlier in the week. Unfortunately, even the foreign newspapers mentioned it, so he ended up giving them a brief explanation — though mostly sticking to Dumbledore's story rather than his confusing version.

One of the more interesting things Harry learned about the foreigners was about their magic. There were rumors going around school that the Durmstrang students were evil and only learned black magic, and that the students from Gaia were so weak they could barely be called wizards. As with most rumors Harry heard — many of which were about him — neither were true.

"They are surprisingly well-believed rumors, Mr. Potter," Ollivander had explained after Harry had mentioned it to the small group while taking a break from learning more about shields with Reanna's help. "Many modern academic's guess — hypothesize they say, to make it sound official — that the nationality and lineage of a witch or wizard's parents determines their magical strength, an argument they use to further their purity beliefs. This is, of course, utter nonsense. They see that instead of using directly offensive spells, the Brazilian wizards and witches work with magic indirectly — creating a sword to fight with, for example — and proclaim that as proof that because they breed without care for preserving their bloodlines in that country, their magic is too weak and diluted to use the more powerful spells. The truth of the matter is that in ancient times, South America produced some of the most destructive magic this world has ever known. For ages they were witnesses to horrors you could not begin to imagine, and because of that, they turned away from using magic as a direct weapon. Any Brazilian wizard who was talented in fighting with magic would be a great shame to his family; as such, it would be kept secret and never spoken of or acknowledged, even within their own homes. So, as the centuries have passed, they've added greatly to their knowledge of healing and natural magics and lost that which could be used for fighting."

"Here is another example you may be more familiar with," Mr. Pyrrus added. "As there have been a few notorious dark wizards that speak Parseltongue in the confederation over the past millennium, it is now seen as evil. While never common, the ability to speak to serpents certainly did not disappear completely; rather, those that still carry the trait keep it silent, secret, so they and their families are not ostracized and shamed over it."

Now that Harry could completely understand. If he'd known all this before his second year, he would have most likely kept silent, too.

*****

Saturday morning Harry took a short run and grabbed a bite to eat before his first Ancient Runes tutoring session. He didn't really know Professor Vector very well, and the two classes he had that week hadn't showed him much of what to expect. Plus, the only extra tutoring he'd ever received was from Professor Lupin last year for learning the Patronus Charm. Hanna, having already finished breakfast before Harry even arrived at the Great Hall, took a seat nearby and waited for him to finish. After eating a few eggs, the Great Hall was starting to fill up, so the pair left and made their way to the Runes classroom under the watchful eyes of their fellow students.

Hanna was wearing casual weekend clothing instead of the school robes, and the difference really showed. She had obviously developed quite a bit and finally let her pigtails down, allowing her long blonde hair to fall in waves. Harry felt a bit guilty at stealing looks at her chest as they walked, but he really couldn't help it — ever since his kiss with Katie, he'd taken a much larger interest in the fairer sex.

While he didn't know Hanna all that well, he was still shocked by how little she spoke. After his first class in Ancient Runes, Harry had thought it was Professor Vector putting her on the spot in front of another student that caused her to be shy. That wasn't the case now though, and still she was pretty silent, which was odd as he remembered her as being one of the chatty girls in their first few years of school. Absently, Harry wondered what had happened to her to cause the switch.

During the summer, Ollivander had asked him to keep notes on everyone he knew and to get to know someone better each week. After his first Ancient Runes class, Harry planned on concentrating on Susan and Hanna for the first couple weeks, but aside from Ancient Runes and Herbology — the only two classes they shared — there really wasn't much of a chance to get to know them, or anyone outside of Gryffindor for that matter. He'd been hoping to add another parchment for Hanna today, but it didn't seem to be happening.

His musing ended when Professor Vector came into the room. She was prepared for the tutoring already and handed Harry an outline of the parts he missed on his test. As he started reading through the handout, Harry came to understand the downside of learning everything over the summer like he had. It wasn't just a few details that he was missing, but rather what looked like an entire section dealing with the properties of latent magic in an item and how that affects the overall rune scheme.

By the time the session finished, Harry was mentally brain dead. After more than three hours, he had only touched the surface of the different ways magic could interfere or completely change the outcome of the same rune scheme. Harry hadn't even begun to memorize all the actual properties of the common metals and gems yet, let alone enchanted items. Still, while studying with Katie was a lot more fun and relaxing, he was happy with Professor Vector's methods; and as far as extra study sessions went, it was nowhere near as demanding as having to practice against Dementors like Professor Lupin had him do last year.

*****

While the first full week of school was review, the second week smacked them all on the arse and really showed how difficult this year would be. McGonagall had said that this year they'd be delving much further into the intricacies of magic, and she was right. She certainly did not want to waste any time, and their lectures became more in-depth than before. Even with Ollivander's help during the summer, Harry still felt lost at first and found himself desperately paying attention to every detail during the lecture in the hopes that something would start to make sense.

Transfiguration was not the only subject that this happened with, as Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts both took on a more serious approach. And while Binns was as boring as ever, even he began to cram more information into their lecture, causing Harry switch from sleeping through the class to actually paying attention and even taking notes. Annoyingly, he found that these new lectures were a vast improvement from the previous years, though one that came at a cost — time.

Thankfully, at least one of his classes, Ancient Runes, didn't seem all that difficult, probably because all the work he and Katie did during the summer was now paying off. In an interesting twist, Harry actually gave Hermione a few helpful tips with their homework — granted Katie had showed them to him over the summer, but it was still a pleasant surprise to be able to teach his best friend something new.

While he spent most of his time studying with Hermione and Ron, the few times he tried to sneak off with Katie, he had the distinct impression that something was wrong, though she denied it and said it was nothing. Pushing it out of his mind, he'd gone back to studying and was pleasantly surprised when Katie came over to gave him a quick hug and kiss goodnight before heading up to her dorms. It wasn't anything like what happened at the World Cup, but he wasn't about to complain.

During the little free time he did have outside of studying or talking with Katie and her friends, Harry hung out in the common room trying to put some of Ollivander's lessons to use. He soon learned that there were a few drawbacks to paying more attention to what was happening around him. He had never really thought about it before, but people could be cruel. While not necessarily deliberate — although he suspected some of that did happen as well — his dormmates were hurting each other everywhere he looked.

In several groups there was often someone who was ignored and barely even acknowledged. It wasn't that the person was too quiet. Harry saw a few examples of them trying to break into the conversation, only to be roughly shot down. Worse was when he realized that his friends did this to Neville, and to his disgust, even to Hermione. He was slightly mollified that he didn't do it himself and hoped he never had in the past — especially not to Hermione.

The only explanation he could really come up with was that people really didn't notice what went on around them or even what they were saying most of the time. This had been true for himself, as well — at least until this past summer. Ollivander's lessons were a double edged sword in that respect. Thankfully, unlike his primary school, there wasn't much in the way of outright bullying at Hogwarts, at least not within Gryffindor house. Fights between houses were somewhat common, especially with Slytherin, but Harry expected no less from the snakes.

After realizing what his fellow Gryffindor's put Hermione through, Harry decided to walk off his anger a bit. He wanted to be mad at them; sure, Hermione's nagging could be a bit much at times, but she was still a good friend who had helped them all quite a few times over the years. He wanted to be mad, but as he thought about how he acted to her most of last year, he knew he really couldn't. Harry might not have caused the row last year, but he hadn't thought about how it affected her until Hagrid had pointed it out to them. Lost in thought and not paying attention to what was going on around him, Harry was caught surprised when someone interrupted him.

"Wotcher Harry!" a decidedly female voice called out to him.

Standing there, on the outskirts of a group of people he didn't know talking to Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, was the woman he'd met at the World Cup, Tonks, in her bright red official ministry robes and long black hair.

"Tonks," Harry said, as he remembered she mentioned Hogwarts during their walk, "you've been assigned to Hogwarts then?" She really had saved him a great deal of trouble with her quick thinking that night by taking the blame for why he took so long getting back to the camp site.

"Just now," she replied as she walked over to him. "It looks like I'll be bugging you on and off for the next few months!"

"You didn't get in trouble with the Ministry did you? Those officials didn't look happy when you left."

"Ha! Those old duds complained to my supervisor, but he pretty much just waved it off. It's not the first time some official has had a problem with the MLE."

The, now short, pink-haired Auror trainee then switched gears and began going on about her new duties at Hogwarts. Harry listened closely, mostly because he really was interested in what an Auror did, but also because it kept his mind of his own problems regarding Hermione and why in the world it seemed to matter so much to him all of a sudden. Tonks' enthusiasm was so over-the-top he couldn't help but smile back at her, and he was soon caught up in the excitement as well, his previous thoughts forgotten.

*****

The next week at Hogwarts started with another horrible Potions class, followed by a surprise test in Transfiguration. Such tests were always annoying, but the real surprise about today's was that he actually knew the answers – _knew _– not just guessed.

Though Ollivander had taught him a lot over the summer, none of it was on this exact subject, so his only knowledge came from taking notes during the previous weeks classes. Between the increased difficulty of his classes and his own promise to change things fresh in his mind, Harry had really been trying to pay attention and do well this year.

The first subject he had to do this for was Professor McGonagall's class, and he'd given it his all. He struggled at first as he didn't really understand the basics of what she was talking about with the new in-depth lessons, but this only caused him to follow along even more carefully as she went over the lessons and sometime during the week he'd suddenly got it, like a light bulb going off in his head.

At the same time, another light bulb had gone off in his head. Harry had previously always claimed that he was trying — maybe not his hardest, as he justified spending part of his free time with Ron, and also spent a great deal of time practicing for the Quidditch team — but that he was actually trying in his classes. Now though, Harry realized that he'd only been pretending to himself. He'd taken this new attitude into each class, hoping it'd help him change things in the end, but he'd never expected that it'd start to pay off so soon.

The teachers did slow down on the busy work, instead seeming to favor fewer more difficult and in-depth assignments. Surprisingly, Harry actually preferred this method because it reminded him more of the assignments that Ollivander had him do over the summer, when he easily spent an hour or two working out the different parts to a single problem. Though he couldn't hold a candle to how fast Hermione worked, he was still impressed by how few questions he had to ask her, preferring to try — and often succeeding — to figure it out by himself first.

Ron, during all this, was struggling. Though Hermione had reneged on her threat not to help him with classes after his thoughtless remark on their first night back at Hogwarts, she was limiting her help to examples only, forcing him to do the actual assignments himself. That was still better than several of their other classmates, who would stop by their table to ask for help when stuck but otherwise were on their own.

*****

By the end of the week, Harry knew something was afoot. Though there was no specific rumor, there was a feeling of wrongness that he couldn't shake. It continued to grow until they walked into the Great Hall for dinner Friday evening. A low platform had been erected at the front of the hall, and Minister Fudge and quite a few other important-looking people, including one of his least favorite people — Lucius Malfoy — were sitting at a new table nearby. Beyond them and toward the far wall of the Great Hall were a group of journalists who were standing around and snapping the occasional photograph.

A memory of a very similar scene flashed through his mind, but he tried to shove it away and continue to walk toward their regular seats. He wasn't completely successful, but at least he didn't fall down and stumble. This was not the time Harry wanted to deal with something like that.

The buzz of hundreds of conversations flowed through the Great Hall as the rest of the students slowly trickled in. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Dumbledore very deliberately stood, calling for everyone's attention.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," he said, his bearded face beaming around at the packed Great Hall. "We are all here for a very exciting event, one that we hope will help usher in a new age of international co-operation and respect between our great countries. Before we begin, I would like to speak about the past and how this event has come to be."

"Judicium Magus," Dumbledore continued after a moment's pause, "dates back to the age of Merlin and refers to the practice of magic itself, proceeding over a judicial hearing to decide the innocent. Though the knowledge to invoke such a procedure was lost during the Cataclysm, the idea of allowing magic to judge an event remained."

"700 years ago, in a time when distrust, ill-will, and violence between societies and beliefs ran rampant, Headmaster Chauncey Everard grew tired of seeing the magical world living in fear of trusting each other; but there were scars on that generation that could never heal, and he was not blind to that. His idea, however, was brilliant in its simplicity. The only true way to create lasting peace, he believed, was to show our children that while we may and often do disagree, we have more in common than our differences can divide."

Dumbledore stopped a moment to let his words sink in before continuing. "To that end, he worked extensively with the Headmasters of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to create a school-oriented event in the hopes of promoting peace. For several years the three schools tried to organize the event, only for it to be caught up in the same distrust that it was being designed to fight. Eventually they decided that the only way to have a fair competition was for magic to be the judge. It was then that the Experientia Magus — trials of magic — was born.

"Today, when distrust between our societies continues to grow, we once again must place our hopes for the future in our children."

"It is my greatest honor and pleasure to officially welcome the students of Hogwarts, Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, Gaia, Salem, and Victoria to the Trials of Magic."

*****

Silence reigned as Dumbledore took his seat. After such a speech Harry could see why the professor was considered one of the greatest wizards of all time. It may have been his magical strength and knowledge that evil wizards feared, but it was his words and determination that people believed in — this was what Ollivander had tried to make him understand in the beginning. Studying defense books could make him a good fighter, but it could never make him a great wizard.

There were other speakers, pompous, stuck-up officials from the different ministries, but no one's speech could touch Dumbledore's.

Finally the introductions and politicians were done with and Dumbledore stood, this time explaining a little of how the original three schools hired the best craftsmen of the age to create a magical object to oversee the trials, the Goblet of Fire — a roughly hewn wooden cup that was unremarkable in appearance except that it was full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore continued to explain that each school would have a team of five champions, chosen by the goblet, and each month the teams would compete in two tasks: one designed to test magical knowledge and the other to test one's skill and power.

Harry thought about everything that happened this summer as Dumbledore finished his explanations and opened it up for aspiring Hogwarts champions. He thought about the future, about all his visions and his promise to change things, the studying he'd done, and the feeling of wrongness he had all week. Harry knew what he had to do.

While everyone was whispering to each other and glancing around to see who would be first, he grabbed Ron and Hermione's arm and stood up, shocking those around him.

"Come on you two," he said, pulling them out his their seats.

"What do you think you're doing?" Hermione hissed.

"I am not letting things go the way they were," Harry fiercely whispered to her, making sure no one else could overhear them. "We've seen what happens. We have to change things!"

Cedric Diggory was sitting slightly closer to the front than they were and arrived just before the three of them. Taking a slip of parchment from the table, Harry took the contract quill — a quill that wrote not in ink, but in the blood of the witch or wizarding holding it — and magically signed his name before submitting it to the goblet. Returning to their seats with Hermione and Ron, Harry saw that the Weasley twins and a couple other Gryffindors were heading up to the table, along with a few people from the other houses. Malfoy tried to make an especially big production of submitting his name, but Harry and the rest of Gryffindor just laughed at him; he hadn't even been the first Slytherin to sign up. In all, there were 23 Hogwarts students who signed up, including two second years who did it on a dare from one of their friends.

After the last Hogwarts student finished, Dumbledore made a great sweeping gesture towards the goblet with his wand. The Goblet of Fire shone brightly with its magical blue fire as the entire Great Hall watched anxiously. Finally, after what seemed like forever to Harry, the goblet flashed red and a piece of parchment shot into the air and was caught by the headmaster's waiting hand.

"Hogwarts' Team Leader is Cedric Diggory!" Dumbledore's strong voice announced to the great applause of Hufflepuff's table.

Cedric walked up to the raised platform and waited as the goblet made its next decision. Thankfully it didn't take very long this time, and Dumbledore's voice called out, Harry Potter.

The Gryffindor table went wild around him, but Harry barely paid any attention. He'd done it. After all the work this summer, here was proof that he had actually managed to change things!

Getting up, Harry walked up to the platform and shook hands with Cedric. While sitting at Gryffindor's table, he had thought Cedric looked confident and happy, a smile on his face. Up close, however, he saw that the Hufflepuff was terribly nervous and smiling so much that it reminded him of Gilderoy Lockhart.

The next person called was an older Slytherin witch, Catherine Longford. Harry didn't particularly like the idea of working with a snake, but at least it wasn't Malfoy or one of his goons. He could only imagine how horribly Hogwarts would do with that brat on the team.

After Catherine came Cho Chang from Ravenclaw. Three of the school's seekers were on the team! Cho looked as beautiful as ever, but Harry forcefully took his eyes off her and instead focused on the Goblet of Fire. He didn't understand what he felt around the pretty Ravenclaw; it wasn't the same crush as he felt last year, but it was definitely something.

The goblet took longer this time, longer than any of the previous times really, and Harry was just wondering if maybe he had heard wrong, and it was four people team, not five, when it finally turned red and shot out another parchment.

"Hermione Granger," was called and Harry clapped like a mad man. The two of them were on the team together!

He saw Hermione talking to herself back at Gryffindor table and could only smile as he remembered the little, first-year girl talking to herself as she gathered her courage to walk in front of the school and try on the sorting hat.

Once she made it up there, Dumbledore officially introduced them to the school.

"Ladies and Gentleman, our Hogwarts Champions!"


End file.
